


Hollow Bullet

by Necro (Charlie_M)



Series: Phoenix Rising [2]
Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Murder, Bodyguard Romance, Erron is smitten as hell, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Healthy Relationships, Pet Adoption, Phoenix Merce, Psychic Abilities, SEX!, The slowest burn I've ever written tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:05:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_M/pseuds/Necro
Summary: Erron Black meets a very confused, very injured, and very misplaced woman in the jungle. He takes her back to Kotal Kahn, only to learn that she has the potential to be a very powerful psychic. She strikes a deal with the emperor that puts her in Erron's orbit. A lot... and he kind of likes her.Well, at least he's not her bodyguard.





	1. Not in Earthrealm Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Look, listen, I know. Okay? I KNOW. But Phoenix and Kuai are already together in Cryromancing and I wanted to try writing a new relationship dynamic. I'll finish the first one eventually, I swear. Just let me write about the cowboy stripper and the pretty purple psychic.

Erron was out on solitary patrol. Technically he was off-duty, but a bored Erron Black was a dangerous Erron Black and Outworld had been too quiet. In the interest of keeping his job, he went out looking for trouble where he could get away with finding it— criminals. The heat of the sun was sweltering, and the hotter it was, the more aggressive people got. That was true of just about any dimension, so he’d had high hopes for some entertainment.

Unfortunately, he’d come up empty except for a few petty crimes. Nothing worth his time. In a last-ditch effort, he abandoned the markets for the jungle, hoping for some illicit activity in the shadows.

Erron knew the terrain like the back of his hand, knew all the noises that were supposed to accompany him as he stomped through the foliage and low water.

The sound of someone running— no, sprinting— was not one of them. Curious enough to investigate, Erron adjusted course for the direction he heard the disturbance. Ragged panting reached his ears just as a woman bolted across his path about a hundred yards away, three men in heavy tactical gear in close pursuit.

Erron reached for his gun at the same time one of them sprang and tackled her. The woman screamed as she went down, choked off when her head collided with a fallen tree.

Lights out.

He arched an eyebrow as the other two men surrounded her. They kept their guns— assault rifles— trained on her while the first fumbled a camera from his belt. They were from Earthrealm, but obviously not part of the Special Forces unit that had sanctioned access to Outworld. It took one to know one, and Erron Black recognized a fellow mercenary when he saw one, or three. Why it took that many for one frightened woman was beyond him.

Well, far be it from Erron to interrupt someone else’s hit. Professional courtesy and all that. If it had been him, he would have been pissed if someone came fucking around his job.

That being said, he hung around to watch. After all, he was bored and curious and they hadn’t noticed him yet. The one with the camera nudged the unconscious woman none too gently with his boot. Her eyes fluttered, arms tucking in to protect her abdomen as she groaned. One of the gunmen muttered something about her hair, but Erron didn’t quite catch it at his distance.

“C’mon, now. Open those pretty eyes,” the first said.

She gingerly pressed a hand to the bloody split in her forehead as she squinted and winced. Disoriented, it took her a moment to realize her situation, but they could tell the moment she did. She paled, froze, and then her eyes get that wide fearful acceptance Erron was familiar with.

Her eyes skipped down to the camera, a shudder of disgust quaking through her small frame. “Is that for him or you?”

There’s some defiance in her after all, despite the reality of the situation. Erron could respect that.

“Both,” the hitman chuckled.

Erron snorted. Some guys in the profession were like that, real sadists that got off on the blood and money. They liked to keep souvenirs to jerk it to even after the job was over. Erron himself didn’t, but he wasn’t one to judge, either.

“Why is he doing this?” she demanded.

“It’s not our fucking business, princess,” another said.

The tears started then, but she didn’t beg and Erron had to appreciate that too. It was always kind of a drag when the targets made it personal, like it wasn’t just a means to make money. Speaking of jobs…

They were all clearly from Earthrealm and they weren’t supposed to be in Outworld to start. More importantly, they were doing Earthrealm business _in_ Outworld. The boss wouldn’t be too happy if some woman was murdered in the jungle, especially if SF found out and harassed Kotal Kahn about it.

Besides, Erron was content to watch for only so long.

“Y’all are a long way from home,” Erron called, strolling closer.

The woman’s eyes darted to him, curious and… worried? Was she worried for him? That was awfully sweet and awfully stupid. Erron smirked behind his mask and hooked his thumbs in his belt, real casual. The guy with the camera turned on him, eyes narrow.

“Why don’t you move along, _partner_ ,” he sneered, “Before you see something you shouldn’t.”

The woman sucked in a sharp breath, glancing between him and the men. Erron spared her a glance. She’d had a number done on her, that was for sure. There was a big gash over the bridge of her nose that had coated the lower half of her face in blood. There were bruises and dirt along her forehead and cheeks, leaves and twigs tangled into her hair. The man had been right though, she had pretty eyes.

“Nah, I think I’ll stick around,” Erron drawled. “See what you dipshits think you’re made of.”

The fight was depressingly short. They were… well, not good. Adequate, but nothing compared to Erron. Made sense why they’d needed three to take down one lady. He dispatched them quick and easy, stepped over the bodies when he was done. It wasn’t quite enough to quell his restlessness, but it took the edge off.

The woman shifted back as he approached her, drew her knees to her chest. Smart girl, he thought, not trusting him right away just because he’d stopped her would-be murderers. Movement beyond that seemed past her capabilities, though, so no running like she clearly wanted to. Even just scooting away had brought her visible pain.

“Wh-what was that about? You wanted the money for yourself?” she asked, “How much is he even paying?”

He squatted down in front of her, assessing the damage more thoroughly.

She was wearing pajamas, so the three musketeers must have tried to ambush her. Not a fighter, this one, so she’d ran. She’d had just enough time to pull on shoes at least, but her legs and arms were littered in scratches and darkening bruises. That tackle must have hurt too, because she was cradling her ribs with one arm. She was pretty small, and that had been a lot of man to take her down, but Erron doubted they were broken.

“My employer is going to have a lot of questions for you,” he told her.

Her brow furrowed, jaw clenching for a second before she threw caution to the wind. “Well, I’ve got a lot of questions for your employer. Like why he’s trying to kill me.”

Erron arched his eyebrows and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the bodies. “Their employer ain’t mine. Take a look around, darlin’, you’re not in Kansas anymore.”

The woman blinked at him, reluctant to take her eyes off him. The curiosity must have been too much though, because she finally glanced away. Her eyes flickered over the jungle and squinted against the sunlight struggling through the thick branches overhead.

“I was just in a forest…” she murmured, “at night.”

Erron settled his forearms on his bent knees. “Maybe in your world. Here in Outworld, it’s mid-afternoon.”

The woman stared him. “Out… world?”

Well wasn’t that interesting? After the Netherrealm war, everyone in Earthrealm had even a basic knowledge of their interdimensional neighbors. Was it just the head injury, or had she really never heard of Outworld before? Even if she hadn’t, people didn’t just accidentally traipse out of Earthrealm. Portals were pretty fucking obvious, even running for your life.

“Can you walk?” Erron asked.

She gave him a dubious look but swallowed back whatever profanity she clearly wanted to call him. “Not sure.”

It took her a minute, but the woman collected herself, hissing between her teeth and favoring one leg. Erron didn’t help, just stood back and waited for her to start stumbling after him. He led her through the jungle along the quickest and easiest route he knew, because he doubted she’d last long and he wasn’t interested in carrying her.

As they approached Kotal Kahn’s palace, he heard her gasp. He peered at her from his peripheral, caught her staring wide-eyed at the towering walls. As they entered the interior, she sidled closer, skirting the face-painted guards with confused fear. Erron smirked behind his mask.

“Where the hell am I?” she asked.

Whether she was talking to him or not, he responded. “Outworld, girl. I already told you.”

She frowned at him, no hint of recognition in her features. “But what does that mean?”

That he didn’t answer, instead guided her through the halls. Just before they reached the main chamber, he glanced at her over his shoulder. Erron knew what exhaustion looked like, and she was three steps past that. Since she hadn’t been a complete pain in the ass— probably because she was too tired— and he wasn’t a complete dick, he offered her some advice.

“Kneel when you’re in front of Kotal Kahn.”

She swallowed and shot him a frightened look. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get up again.”

Erron shrugged. “If he doesn’t kill you, I’ll give you a boost up.”

She swallowed as she recognized that he wasn’t joking. Without wasting anymore time, he pushed the doors open and greeted his employer with a tilt of his head. The woman followed on faltering steps, eyes settling on Kotal Kahn with the same confusion and fear she’d had for everything else. When Erron stopped her, she all but collapsed onto her knees.

“What is this, Black?” Kotal Kahn demanded.

Ermac stared, head cocked.

“Three Earthrealm men were chasing her in the forest. I killed the men, but I brought her here for questioning,” Erron explained.

Kotal Khan’s eyes narrowed but it was Ermac who spoke next. “She is not of Earthrealm.”

Kotal Kahn glared down at the woman, not that she noticed. Her eyes hadn’t settled anywhere for long, darting over every minute detail of the throne room like she could find answers in the emperor’s interior decoration. If she didn’t get with the program, she wasn’t going to last long.

“Where do you hail from?” Kotal Kahn asked.

She jumped and turned back to him, answering slow and uncertain. “The United States… on Earth, I guess?”

“Not Earthrealm. You are different,” Ermac said, “We sense something… foreign about you.”

The woman sat back on her heels and swayed a little. Her strength was fading so fast she didn’t even seem to notice the pain much anymore. Erron doubted she’d be coherent for much longer.

“He—” she pointed at Erron, “said this is Outworld or something like that? We don’t have that where I’m from... I don’t know if that helps…”

Kotal Kahn leaned forward and glanced at Ermac. “Is she lying?”

“No,” Ermac replied slowly, as if thinking it over. “She speaks truth. She is… of a different plane.”

Even Kotal Kahn was confused. What the fuck did he mean “a different plane”? Earthrealm was already a different plane from Outworld; how much different could it get?

“Explain,” Kotal Kahn demanded.

Ermac stalked towards the woman and she shifted nervously. As much as she could, anyway. Erron clamped his hand on her shoulder to keep her from struggling. She glanced back at him but stayed still, shoulders tense. When Ermac was close enough, their eyes glowed green and bore into her.

Nothing happened at first. Then she shuddered and yelped, hands flying up to clutch her head.

“Get out!” she shouted.

A purple spark cracked in the air between them. Ermac jerked back but didn’t appear to be injured, and the woman slumped forward. She caught herself on an unsteady hand before she could faceplant, but she was shaking and panting. Ermac clasped their hands behind their back and retreated to their original position.

“She is from a universe parallel to ours. One without other realms,” Ermac explained.

Erron furrowed his brow and glanced at her, said what they were all thinking. “How did she end up here, then? And what the hell happened just now?”

Kotal Kahn’s eyes bounced back and forth between Ermac and the strange woman. The former narrowed their eyes, silent for several moments before offering an answer.

“Latent psychic ability. Normally impossible to access in her world. Her mortal panic must have tapped into enough to rip an opening between dimensions.” Their tone turned critical. “Sloppy, however. She ended up here rather than Earthrealm.”

Erron glanced at his employer and recognized the expression on his face. Interest. A psychic powerful enough to travel between universes all but falling into his lap? Almost too good to be true.

“You, woman. What is your name?” Kotal Khan asked.

She’d caught her breath enough to sit up and answer. “Phoenix Merce.”

The emperor considered her for a moment, but she was too out of it to know to be worried. Her eyes had that glazed, distant look that could only be achieved through good sex or near-death experiences. Or both. Her bad luck that it was only the latter.

“I have use for your ability,” Kotal Kahn finally said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she replied.

His spine went rigid, a thunderous expression darkening his features. Erron blamed delusional fatigue. She couldn’t really think that denial would do her anything when Ermac had just revealed her little secret.

“Don’t lie to me,” Kotal Kahn boomed.

She raised her hands in a peaceful gesture and shook her head. “Look, it’s been a long day and I’m barely— nothing is making sense right now. Maybe I’m… I’m a psychic, but I don’t know any more about it than you do,” she explained. Her shoulders slumped. “If I could just… rest…”

Erron knew exactly what was going through the emperor’s mind. It wasn’t often Kotal Kahn could acquire an asset like her. She seemed agreeable for the moment. Easy to deal with in her current state. That seemed to convince him to grant her request.

With a wave of his hand, he ordered the servants to prepare a room and for Erron to escort her there.

Erron put a hand under her arm and boosted her up like he’d promised. She leaned into him all the way into the hallway, and then used the wall for support. Erron didn’t bother with talk, not given to conversation and knowing it’d be a wasted effort on her anyway.

He led her down the hallway to a spare room indicated by a servant. After stumbling through the door, she started straight for the bed, eyelids fluttering. One of the maids stepped in front of her before she could reach it, a cloth in hand.

“You’re a mess. You must get cleaned up,” she said.

Phoenix groaned, backpedaling when the servant reached for her. “Too tired.”

The servant’s brow furrowed in frustration, hands on her hips. “You’re still bleeding.”

“Just my nose. If you tape it together for now, I’ll clean up after I sleep.”

The maid looked like she was about to argue further, but Erron caught her eye shook his head. The servant relented and flitted away, returning with a wet cloth and medical tape. Phoenix was so tired, she didn’t even flinch as the wound was wiped at and closed. The second she was able, she trudged to the bed and flopped down, asleep before her head hit the pillow.

With her down for the count— because there was no way she was waking up within the next twelve hours— Erron left. He returned to Kotal Kahn’s throne room, stationed himself against one of the pillars.

“What are you thinking, boss?” he asked.

Kotal Kahn made a deep sound that on anyone else would be a contemplative hum. “I will not lose an opportunity for such a powerful addition to my retinue. Especially with D’Vorah’s… absence.”

“If we may, lord?” Ermac offered.

Kotal Kahn jerked his head in a nod and Ermac stepped forward to speak.

“Psychics learn and perform best under low-stress conditions. The mental strain they must endure for their abilities is high. She is powerful, but she will self-destruct if not handled correctly.”

Erron crossed his arms, shoulder braced against the column. “What you’re saying is that intimidation isn’t the way to go. No cells or threats.”

Ermac shook their head. “We would not advise it.”

The logic was there, and if Ermac was saying it then it was probably true. They had no reason to do a strange woman any favors. So Phoenix would need kid gloves, and R and R to be useful.

“She was running from someone when I found her. Those three men were working for someone who wants her dead,” Erron offered, “She’s pretty shaken up.”

Kotal Kahn arched his eyebrows, as surprised as Erron had been that someone had it out for her so bad.

“Given these factors, the best course of action lies in befriending her and offering her solace,” he surmised.

Both Erron and Ermac inclined their heads in deference.

“Very well. We will offer her a place here and Ermac will be her teacher.”


	2. Agreement and Negotiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix is the new kid on the block, but she'll figure it out.

Erron opened his eyes about mid-morning, almost feeling rested. He’d woke in the middle of the night, made the rounds around the palace just because he’d needed to waste time and energy. He’d checked on Phoenix Merce while he’d been up, but she had still been dead to the world.

Mouth dry, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and chugged the glass of water on his nightstand. If Phoenix Merce wasn’t awake yet, then she would be soon, and she’d just have to suck it up. It had been well over fourteen hours since she’d hit the sack and she needed to get on Outworld time. Kotal Kahn wanted to speak with her.

He dressed and armed himself, mentally preparing himself for whatever a well-rested Phoenix would be like. Gods, he hoped she wasn’t annoying.

When he arrived at her temporary quarters, a servant informed him that she was already awake and washing up. There was an uncomfortable set to the woman’s face, a pinch at the corners of her mouth and around her eyes.

“Is she causing trouble?” he asked. He didn’t know how that would even be possible, given her current condition.

She shook her head and clasped her hands in front of her. “Apart from her medical care, she has been agreeable. She just… asks many questions.”

Erron arched an eyebrow and headed inside, figuring a couple things from that alone. One, she had a low pain tolerance when she was in her right mind and she’d been a wuss about getting treatment. Two, she was a chatter-box who didn’t realize the servants were just there to work. He imagined they weren’t giving her satisfactory answers, so he’d brace himself for an interrogation when she came out.

He stopped by her bed, noted the sheets had been stripped because she’d probably bled all over them. The bathroom door across from the bed was ajar, and through it he could hear the low murmur of voices. He leaned against the wall opposite it to wait, hoping she wouldn’t take too much longer. An older, matronly voice rose above the others on the other side, a touch stern.

“Miss Merce, sit _still_.”

A nervous giggle answered. Erron tilted his head, but it got quiet again until the door opened, and Phoenix Merce stepped out with a small army of maids trailing after her.

Well… fuck.

He didn’t do a double-take, but he sure felt like he should have. The servants had clearly gone to task cleaning her up— her skin glowed, clean and soft-looking. An effort had been made to style her hair, a pale lavender color with a few plaits and pins holding it back from her face. They must have given up however, because the majority of it fell in soft curls to her shoulders.

Erron would’ve doubted it was even still her, if not for the big violet eyes and her remaining injuries. The larger wounds had been bandaged, except for her nose. Even that had been better cleaned and sealed. For clothes, they’d provided her a breathable linen shirt and skirt, allowing the smaller cuts and scrapes fresh air to heal.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, relief palpable in her voice.

He felt like he was the one in a parallel universe for a moment, unused to anyone saying that particular phrase that way. It made sense though, sort of. Phoenix may not have known him or trusted him, but she recognized him. That had to mean a lot to her when everything else was so strange and new.

“Feeling better, girly?” he asked.

She stopped a safe distance from him, fidgeting with her hands. “Nix,” she corrected, then added, “and yes. Things still hurt but the rest helped.”

He bet. There was a faint patch of bruises around her ribs, not dark enough for breaks but he knew from experience that it was still painful. It’d probably be a couple weeks before she could even breathe comfortably again, never mind much else. She wouldn’t require much babysitting in the meantime.

“I hear you’re grilling the ladies,” he said.

She blinked, eyes big and clear. “Well, I’m in a new dimension. I’m just curious.”

He glanced at said servants over her shoulder and nodded, indicating they could leave. They ducked their heads and exited without hesitation. Phoenix glanced at their retreat over her shoulder before focusing on him again. She didn’t have a poker face for shit; Erron could tell she was nervous being alone with him.

He stayed reclined against the wall, arms crossed but completely relaxed.

“They won’t be much help to you. If you got questions, you should direct ‘em at me or Ermac,” he informed her.

She hummed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You didn’t strike me as talkative. I didn’t want to aggravate you.”

She flicked his guns a glance, the kind where you blink and miss it. Right, she had seen him shoot three heavily armed men the day before without so much as a drop of sweat. As a girl who probably didn’t spend a lot of time in the presence of firearms, that probably made her nervous. That wasn’t exactly his problem, but he needed her to cooperate.

He put his hands up in the same peaceful gesture she’d used in the throne room. She watched him curiously, the corners of her mouth tilted down.

“How about I tell you when you start to piss me off,” he offered. “Sound fair?”

She snorted, but her lips twitched towards a smile. “Yeah, that sounds like a good deal.”

Phoenix winced as she pulled on her shoes, trying to lace them as quickly as possible without folding her abdomen. Erron kept his distance, watching and trying not to laugh at the faces she was making.

“What’s your name, anyway?” she asked. “I never caught it yesterday.”

Surprised that it was even on her radar to ask, he answered after a stunned pause. “Erron Black.”

Shoes on, she stood and he walked for the door with a gesture for her to follow. She fell into step beside him, looking curious and hopeful.

“Hungry?” he asked.

Phoenix nodded. “Starving.”

The walk to the dining hall was slow. She wasn’t limping anymore, but she was still sore and injured, so Erron had to adjust his pace to accommodate her. Of all people, he knew that feeling after a shitty night, so he tried to be patient. In the meantime, she asked about Kotal Khan and Ermac and the palace, gaze bouncing between his face and the halls as they walked.

When they finally reached the rarely-used dining table, Kotal Khan greeted her as warmly as he greeted anyone—which didn’t say much, but it was something. It seemed he was taking Ermac’s advice to heart. Phoenix accepted it with only a little hesitance, responding with a polite smile and impeccable manners.

Erron sat on Kotal Kahn’s right and she sat by Erron’s. He didn’t particularly want to act as a buffer between them considering he wasn’t even going to eat, but she seemed relieved to have an occupied seat between her and the emperor. He couldn’t really blame her for that.

Their meal was served on large plates in the middle of the table, so they could choose their own portions. Erron caught her hesitating, hand poised midair. The food was foreign to her, so Erron nudged a few of the friendlier dishes her way. There were some Earthrealm plates in the mix, which she took full advantage of, piling generous amounts of the familiar along with the foreign cuisine.

“I have a proposition to offer you, Phoenix Merce,” Kotal Khan began.

She swallowed the bite in her mouth and tilted her head. “You can call me Nix. I really prefer it, if that’s alright,” she replied. “But what did you have in mind?”

Kotal Khan was taken aback by that; Erron saw it even if Phoenix didn’t. Not often that someone was so informal with the emperor. It seemed like he was debating if he should take her casual attitude as disrespect or not. When he glanced at Erron, the mercenary just shrugged. It seemed that she was just like that. Kotal Kahn recovered and forged onwards.

“You are running from someone. I assume you are hesitant to return to your own dimension.”

Phoenix flinched, the bite she’d been about to eat returning to her plate. Her gaze lowered, eyes foggy and troubled.

“Not even if I knew how,” she agreed, “and that’s not even considering if he was able to…”

She shuddered, jaw clenching. Erron arched his eyebrows. Far be it from him to get caught up in anyone else’s drama, but he couldn’t help being a little curious. Nothing about her seemed particularly threatening or offensive. From his own experience, hits tended to be taken out by business rivals and people close to the target. He had a feeling that Phoenix’s case was the latter.

Which still left the question of who and why? Boyfriend? Husband or ex-husband, maybe?

“Given your lack of resources and contacts in this dimension, as well as the situation in your own, I’m prepared to offer you haven here. You will have food, clothing, and shelter. Even access to money.”

She looked tempted to agree on the spot, but she knew better. “I suppose the price for that is to learn how to use these… ‘psychic abilities’ and work for you?”

Erron was glad no one could see him grinning behind his mask. She was sharper than he would’ve given her credit for. Maybe it was her new powers acting unconsciously, but she didn’t seem to miss much. She was careful about what she revealed and how she revealed it, too. That would go a long way to keep her useful and alive.

“It is fair, is it not?” Kotal Kahn asked. Except he wasn’t asking. He wasn’t a man to be negotiated with.

She hummed noncommittally and took a long sip from her drink. Kotal Khan could make a grown man piss his pants, Erron wasn’t surprised that her mouth was a little dry.

“Well, it depends on what you want me to do,” she said slowly, “I can’t kill someone. I won’t.”

Kotal Kahn sat back in his seat, taking her statement seriously. He knew it was something she wouldn’t compromise on, as ludicrous as it sounded. Killing had been a part of Erron’s life for so long it was as natural as breathing. But that was Erron.

It wasn’t the same for Phoenix, who stared Kotal Kahn dead in the eye until he started laughing. She wasn’t the only one startled— Erron couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard the emperor laugh.

“A condition I believe can be met,” Kotal Kahn said, waving his hand. “The nature of your work, however, will be better determined when we understand the extant of your abilities. Be assured, though, that I have more than enough executioners.”

She nodded slowly, considered his proposition with her eyes on her plate. There wasn’t really much to consider, though. She wouldn’t have to sacrifice her morals, she got to be safe and taken care of. Shit, she’d even get magical powers out of the deal. Erron wouldn’t have turned that down in her position.

“I accept,” she said finally and with conviction Kotal Kahn would respect, “but this is a conversation I insist we revisit when the time comes.”

Kotal Khan appeared amused by that and inclined his head in agreement. With the difficult conversation over, they returned to their meals, exchanging few words as they ate. Phoenix seemed too preoccupied with her new living arrangement to ask Erron questions again.

When they finished their meal, Ermac approached her.

“We will be your tutor until you master your psychic abilities,” they said.

She blinked, and that seemed to be the extent of her reaction to Ermac as a whole.

“Alright,” she said slowly.

“Follow us and we will begin immediately,” they told her.

Phoenix spared Erron a quick, unsure glance. Unsure what else to do, or why she was looking for reassurance from him of all people, he gave her a tiny nod. She inhaled as if to fortify herself and then followed Ermac. Erron watched them go, vaguely wondering how she’d do before dismissing those thoughts altogether as Kotal Kahn began discussing the day’s agenda with him.

***

Erron saw Phoenix in snippets after that. Little passing moments that always stuck with him a few seconds longer than they should have, if he thought about it. Of course, he didn’t really think about it, so it went over his head until much later.

After finalizing her agreement with Kotal Kahn, Erron didn’t see hide nor lavender hair of the new psychic for a few weeks. He didn’t ask after her, but he was sure Ermac had her holed up somewhere pouring over dusty old texts and speaking in riddles while her injuries healed. Erron heard in preliminary reports from Ermac that she had already started to make progress, but her stamina was weak while she recovered from her head injury.

It was three weeks before Erron saw her again. A late night at a local tavern had evolved into a late and hungover morning. He stumbled to the dining room for some grub and a gallon of water and found Phoenix nibbling on the last of an early lunch. An ancient and ragged-looking tome was cracked open next to her plate, scribbles of cramped writing scrawled from edge to spine.

Erron started making himself a heaping plate of food without a word. Phoenix either didn’t notice or didn’t care, because she flipped the page and continued to slowly devour a slice of vivid blue fruit. When he was finished assembling his meal, he finally glanced over at her. She was still reading.

The cuts on her nose and forehead were newly healed and had left shiny pink scars behind. The bruising was mostly gone, though her ribs still sported fading splotches here and there. Even so, he didn’t fail to notice the dark circles under her eyes.

Convalescence could keep the nightmares at bay for only so long; Erron knew that from his own experience. She’d be haunted for a while longer still.

***

Erron saw her again a couple days later, not hungover this time.

He was just back from patrol around the city, on his way to report to Kotal Kahn. Nix was sitting in the shade of a statue in the courtyard, one book in her lap and another lying by her hip. Her hair was braided loosely over her shoulder, a cascading plait of pale purple. As he passed, she tilted her head up, caught his eyes, and smiled at him with a little wave. Surprised, he tipped his hat in response and kept walking.

That happened for another few days, a little wave and a quick hat tip. The next week, however, patrols turned over and Erron no longer went for city patrols during the day. Not that he cared, but he spared a thought one day to wonder if she’d miss saying hi to him.

Two weeks later, she walked into him as they were both rounding a corner. She’d had her nose buried in a book as per usual, and Erron hadn’t heard her coming. It wasn’t a hard collision; Phoenix made a noise that was more surprise than pain. Erron steadied her with one hand and her book with the other, arched an eyebrow at her startled expression.

“Might want to watch where you’re going,” he drawled.

She blinked and cleared her throat. “Usually I sense people coming… sorry about that.”

“Didn’t do me any damage,” he assured her.

He didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered over him, or the faint smile that curled the corners of her mouth. “I would hope not. I don’t think Kotal Kahn would forgive me for wrecking his bodyguard.”

Oh, he wasn’t the one worried about getting wrecked. With a few weeks of healing and distance, Erron couldn’t deny she was damn fine to look at, though not his usual type.

“Yeah, well I’m sure he wouldn’t be too happy with me hurting his new psychic.”

She huffed in amusement and shook her head. “I’m not as fragile as you’ve been led to believe.”

Hell no, she wasn’t. If Erron was giving her credit for anything, it was being one hell of a trooper. Whatever she was, he wouldn’t call it fragile.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sugar.”

A bright blush painted her cheeks. “Uh, right. Good.”

He tipped his hat as he stepped around her. “Ma’am.”

She nodded in return. “Have a nice day, Erron.”

As she walked away, Erron rethought his previous lecherous musings. Nix was far too sweet for him. He liked harder women, he told himself. Women who could kiss him stupid one moment and break his jaw the next. Gritty women who liked it quick and dirty, whose hands knew their way around a gun of any kind.

That wasn’t Nix… but that didn’t mean he didn’t like seeing her blush.


	3. Theatrical Chivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erron and Nix are like magnets. He's the negative; she's SUPER positive. Somehow, they find each other charming.

He saw her in passing a few more times that month. Each time, he gave her his trademark hat-tilt and smirked at the way her cheeks flushed whenever she was close enough to hear him say “ma’am.” Most times, she managed to collect herself enough to murmur an embarrassed greeting in response.

A few times he caught her in the courtyard, sitting in the shade of the walls or statues. The ancient books were always present, but it seemed she’d finally moved from theory to practice. By the second month of her stay in Kotal Kahn’s palace, he’d see her sitting in odd spots summoning balls of purple energy between her palms.

Ermac seemed as pleased as they could get with her progress. Their weekly reports to the emperor included remarks that she was a natural who was dedicated to learning as quickly as possible. They were hopeful that in another two months, she’d start to be of some practical use to Kotal Kahn.

The dark circles under her eyes hadn’t left, though; present every time they crossed paths, with some days darker than others. It was no surprise when he finally crossed paths with her one night. He’d taken a midnight patrol shift and was finishing his rounds, slinking in the shadows for intruders by the light of a half-moon. He heard her coming ahead of time, the quiet scuff of her feet across the stone.

When he stepped out, she startled and stumbled back before placing an unsteady hand on her chest. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, twin rings of violet lit up with adrenaline.

“You scared me,” she gasped.

“Beg your pardon, sugar.”

Calling her “sugar” came second only to calling her “darlin’” for the reaction it earned him. Even with the low light, Erron could see her cheeks dusting bright pink. The theatrical chivalry never hurt either, and this time it took the sting out of sneaking up on her in the first place.

“What are you doing up?” she asked.

He arched his eyebrows. “I could be askin’ you the same.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced away. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought a walk might help.”

Fair enough. “I’m just doing the rounds.”

“Oh, good,” she sighed. At the questioning tilt of his eyebrows, she expanded. “I thought I saw something earlier. It was probably nothing, but I feel better with you on guard.”

He ignored that last part, and the novelty of someone feeling secure just by virtue of him being around. Sure, he was Kotal Kahn’s body guard but that was only in the loose sense of the word. His job was more to make sure idiot would-be assassins didn’t waste the emperor’s time. In other words, he wasn’t really much of a comfort to anyone.

“What did you see?” he asked.

She shrugged. “A shadow by one of the walls. I see a lot of weird things lately, though. I can’t decipher between my abilities and my eyes yet.”

It could have been nothing. It also could have been a threat. Erron hadn’t survived Kotal Kahn’s employment for as long as he had without being thorough.

“Show me where.”

Nix nodded and turned to walk back the way she’d come. Erron followed in silence by her side until she stopped at one of the courtyards she frequented. She pointed at a wall and stood back as Erron investigated. There was a scuff mark on the stone, where someone’s foot could have slipped making a hasty retreat. It could have been nothing, but…

“I’ll post a guard here, just in case,” he said when he returned to Nix.

She nodded and circled her arms loosely around her midsection. Erron tilted his head a little, taking her in. She was dressed down for bed, wearing a loose shirt and shorts. Her hair was undone around her shoulders, not brushed out neat as it usually was.

“That walk do you any good?” he asked.

Her eyes slid away as she shrugged. “Kind of.”

Though she tried to hide it, her voice shook a little. Erron considered, then spoke before he could rethink it.

“I can escort you back to your room,” he offered.

She bit her lip for a second before sighing. “Yes, please.”

Though the walk was quiet, the air between them felt… strange. Erron could feel her sneaking peeks at him at intervals, even opening her mouth to speak before changing her mind. At last, though, they reached her room and she turned to him.

“Thank you,” she said, “I really appreciate this.”

“Just doing my job,” he said, except that it wasn’t. He turned to leave so he could finish his patrol and go the fuck to sleep.

“Erron?” she blurted.

He glanced back at her with a questioning quirk of an eyebrow. Nix cleared her throat, fidgeted, but continued speaking anyway.

“This is going to sound dumb but… could you…” She wouldn’t look at him. “Could you just… check my room? Make sure no one can get in?”

There was an unspoken “or is in” that she bit back. Erron heard it anyway and understood. When they’d met, she’d been in her pajamas. It made sense that when the nightmares interrupted her sleep, her room didn’t feel secure.

He could have said no. No one else in the palace would have dared to ask him to check their rooms. Almost everyone in Kotal Kahn’s retinue was able to defend themselves well enough, and if they were offed in the night, well. That was their own fault.

“Sure,” he said.

It was worth it for the way she looked at him. Like she couldn’t believe it. Like he was her fucking hero or something. It did a lot for a man’s ego when a pretty woman like that looked so damn grateful over something that would take him less than a minute.

She pushed the door open, stood aside as Erron entered and gave it a once over. It was a neat, clean room that she’d somehow personalized in the little time she’d been in the palace. There was a desk in one corner, a couple lamps scattered here and there. There were tapestries and decorations on the walls, and fraying books stacked _everywhere_.

He paused by the large windows opposite the door. Her room was on the ground floor and faced another one of the courtyards. He made a mental note to post another guard nearby.

“It looks good to me, darlin’,” he said.

She’d hovered by the door through his evaluation, but she nodded and took a few steps further in. “Thank you, again. You didn’t have to,” she said quietly.

Oh, he knew. Instead of saying that, he told her that he’d station another guard in the courtyard. Just in case. At that, her shoulders finally relaxed.

“You’re an angel, Erron.”

He snorted and shook his head. He couldn’t remember anyone ever calling him that.

“Looks like you need to get back to sleep. I’ll leave you to it.”

Her lips curved up in response and she nodded. “Good night.”

At the door, he turned and tipped his hat with a wink that finally got a blush. “Sweet dreams, sugar.”

***

They crossed paths almost regularly at night after that. Even after Erron’s night patrols ended, he found himself walking the halls as he regularly did. After all, he had his own nightmares to contend with, his own ghosts to haunt him. Nix was a great distraction, though.

She was always sleep-tussled and soft, slow and unguarded. Not that she seemed particularly guarded in the daylight, but there was always a busyness to her that discouraged interruption. At night, that industrious aura calmed to a sleepy hum and a warmth that radiated out to Erron when he was near.

He knew it wasn’t any sort of magic— Erron was impervious to the psychic kind, thanks to Shang Tsung— but it was just as good. A few minutes in her presence was enough to smooth the jagged edges around his mind, the violent restless energy that he normally couldn’t settle without alcohol, blood, or sex. Or some combination thereof.

So, he always offered to walk her back to her room. Sometimes she agreed, and he escorted her to her room with small talk and pleasantries exchanged. Other times it seemed he’d run into her just when she’d begun her nightly walk. Erron usually stopped and spoke with her for a few moments, and oddly enough it seemed like he had a similar effect on her.

After all, the girl didn’t have a poker face for shit and he could see the vestiges of her nightmares clinging to her. She was always nervous and jumpy, arms hovering close to her midsection and eyes flickering around worriedly. When he intercepted her, though, that seemed to fade a little in the few minutes they spoke to each other.

Then there was a really bad night.

Erron stumbled from his room with one hand hovering near his gun, and vision still blurry from sleep. Blood and gore slicked his thoughts, screams and curses rang in his ears across decades. He tried to remember where he was, but the air in Outworld was too hot, too dry, too familiar.

He started walking. No destination. No direction. Just mindless wandering, trying not to leer at shadows. He wanted a drink. He wanted a fight. He wanted a distraction.

Instead, he got Phoenix.

She was sitting in one of the openings built into the walls that were meant to keep the palace cool throughout the day. The edges of the cutout were wide enough that she could sit sideways and lean her back against one of the sides, her silhouette illuminated by low courtyard lights. She was hugging her knees to her chest, cheek resting atop as she stared out towards the sky.

Erron debated his options. Maybe she’d be able to help him, but he doubted it. He wasn’t really in the mood for small talk and niceties. As he tried to sneak by, she jumped and whipped around with a little gasp. Her eyes were wide and glowing, one shaking hand raised defensively. He froze, waited for her to recognize him.

“Erron,” her voice was trembling as much as she was. “Sorry.”

She curled up again, but even he could see how tense she was. Erron sighed. He was cagey; she was jumpy. It would probably only lead to trouble. He had no where else to be, though, and misery loved company. They both seemed pretty miserable.

He climbed through the remaining space, legs hanging over the side of the wall. Nix didn’t speak, barely even indicated that she noticed him joining her. The night settled into a cushion of silence between them. It wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t companionable either. Nocturnal insects chirped; animals called to each other.

Slowly, he could sense Nix relaxing. She uncurled bit by bit and her eyes faded to a faint glow. When her breathing evened out to something quieter and more controlled, Erron realized the worst of it was over for her. A wave of calm washed over him as she readjusted, and her shoulder leaned into his.

It wasn’t a cure-all. Memories of his past kept superimposing themselves over the present. Carnage and regrets nipped at his mind, even with Nix warm against his side. He wasn’t going to sleep again that night, but his hyper-focus on her had taken his mind off the worst of it.

“Want me to walk you back?” he asked after a while.

She nodded, and the scent of her soap hit his nose. Flowers. “Please.”

Without asking, he checked her room with his hand on his gun, assured her that it was secure. When he turned back to her, she looked exhausted but grateful.

“Thank you, Erron. Really.”

He nodded and ducked his head as he moved past her. “Get some sleep, darlin’.”

“I hope you do, too,” she offered.

It was sweet, if in vain.

 

The next day, Nix made a rare appearance in the throne room. Though Ermac was in regular attendance given their position in Koral Kahn’s retinue, she spent most of her time around the rest of the palace. She hadn’t returned to the throne room since that first day.

She entered a step behind Ermac and bowed when she’d approached the throne. Kotal Kahn considered her with a sharp eye.

“Phoenix, your education is progressing.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it actually directed at her.

Ermac nodded and took an extra step forward. “If it would please the emperor, we would have her practice her skills in the market with a few guards as escorts. She needs the experience.”

Kotal Kahn barely considered before nodding. “Take Erron with you, instead. I fear he is growing restless here.”

Erron didn’t argue. The boss was right and besides, he was kind of interested in seeing Nix do her thing. All that study, and he hadn’t really seen her use her abilities— whatever they were. It wasn’t like he had much to do anymore since Mileena had been eliminated. No matter how much Ermac creeped him out, being around Phoenix’s was bound to be more interesting than standing around the palace.

“Let’s get a move on, then,” Erron said.

The market was dry and hot as always.

Lines of sand-smooth wooden stalls were sheltered from the intensity of the sun by red and brown canopies. It was a busy day despite the heat; a cull of produce from a decent harvest had tempted a sea of shoppers from the cool stone of their homes. The capital city’s market stretched across a large swath on days like that, starting close to the palace and netting out through the streets.

They slipped out from the palace without any fanfare, the nature of Nix’s practice apparently contingent on being mostly inconspicuous in the crowds. For that, she probably would have done better on her own. Without an entourage of guards, Erron was less recognizable, but Ermac and Nix stuck out.

One was green and glow-y and wrapped up like a mummy dragged through tar.

The other was all soft pastels and… clean. Just clean. A palette like that amongst the gritty reds and browns of Outworld stuck out even more than Ermac. She was all gauzy white and cream fabrics, fresh-washed skin, bouncy hair. A lot of her was bouncy, actually. She practically hopped around the market.

“You don’t get out much do you, sugar?” he asked, trying (and probably failing) to keep the amusement out of his voice.

She was going to get a crick in her neck if she kept craning it like that. Staring at the taller buildings all wide-eyed and open-mouthed, she looked like a godsdamn tourist. It would have been cute if he didn’t have to redirect her from running into people or animals or objects every ten feet.

Shit, it was still kind of cute. But only a little.

“Not really,” she replied. “I’ve been too focused on my studies… the buildings are much bigger than I expected.”

Erron didn’t bother following her curious gaze. He knew Outworld’s capital city like his own guns, the streets and alleys and buildings mapped out inch by inch in his mind.

“Deeper too. In the hottest months, they stay below ground where it’s cool,” he explained.

She glanced between him and the architecture, attention split. “Oh, that’s brilliant. So these are all residencies?”

He made a wobbly “kinda” gesture with his hand and turned her down a side street. Ermac was ignoring them, striding ahead and easily clearing a path through the citizenry in the process. Erron tried to keep vigilant for any threats, but he kept getting distracted by Nix.

Damn good thing Ermac had their creepy powers.

“They double as businesses and homes,” Erron said, gesturing to a stall with pottery. The doorway behind it was open to reveal the workshop beyond. “The backs of the buildings open up into communal courtyards.”

“So what’s the main economy here?” she asked, “Not tourism, it seems.”

“Masonry, blacksmithing,” Erron listed, thinking. “Some agriculture and fishing.”

Nix’s eyes lit up. “There’s ocean here?”

Which implied a lot of things Erron shouldn’t be thinking about. Like Nix soaking wet and sun-kissed wearing whatever the Outworld equivalent of a bikini was…

Get it together, he told himself. He was there to be her protection— and apparently her tour guide. The point was, he needed to keep focused and remember she wasn’t his type. Too soft. Her fascination with the market should have been enough of a reminder.

He tugged her out of the way of an oncoming cart and spotted Ermac, waiting for Nix and Erron to catch up with their arms crossed.

“Hurry up,” Erron grunted, nudging her a little faster.

Nix finally focused long enough to reach Ermac unscathed. They’d travelled through about a quarter of the market already and settled on one of the busiest streets. An array of people and animals sidled around them in contradictory masses like ocean currents, nearly shoulder to shoulder.

“You may stand back, mercenary,” Ermac said.

Erron narrowed his eyes but took a large step away and pretended to scan the area. He was still within earshot, though, and listened to Nix’s instructions curiously.

“Skim through all the thoughts here,” Ermac began. “Feel all of them in your mind. Do not focus on any individual.”

Erron glanced at Nix. She closed her eyes, brow furrowed in concentration, but Ermac grabbed her shoulder and shook her a little. Nix blinked and glanced at them curiously.

“You must learn to keep your eyes open,” they said.

“Dealing with the visual and all those thoughts is too much,” she argued. “I’m having a hard-enough time not being overwhelmed just standing here.”

Ermac shook their head. “It is too dangerous to be unaware like that, a bad habit you must break now. We will not always be here to be your eyes.”

She exhaled and ran a hand through her hair. “Alright…” Then, with more determination. “Alright. I’m going to get this.”

With another deep inhale, she cast her eyes on a vague point over everyone’s heads. As Erron watched, her eyes began to glow. In the sunny outdoors it was less obvious than in the darkened palace halls. Still, she was garnering some attention and despite her eyes being open, she clearly wasn’t aware. Erron met the eyes of those lingering on Nix and made a point of crossing his arms.

They moved on quickly.

“Too much,” she gasped and stumbled back a step. “It’s too noisy. It drowns out everything else.”

“You must breath and keep a line between you and them,” Ermac instructed. “Imagine a glass wall separating your thoughts from theirs. Try again.”

Her face pinched in concentration as she complied, eyes switching on like lights. It went like that for about forty-five minutes, Nix able to bear all the minds in the market for longer and longer stretches of time until she could do it for about five minutes at a time.

“Now I want you to pick out one set of thoughts in particular.”

Nix was rubbing at one of her eyes. “Which?”

Ermac made a wide gesture. “Any that stand out to you for now.”

Erron was getting used to the routine. A deep inhale, then a slow exhale as she went still, and her eyes lost focus. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip— already red from previous attempts. It took a bit of time, but she finally pointed across the way.

“That woman just found out she’s pregnant. She’s… very conflicted,” she revealed.

Erron’s gaze shot to the woman she’d pointed at. She had short blond hair pinned back from her features and a leather apron around her front. As he watched, the woman— a merchant selling jewelry— brushed her palm over her stomach. Huh.

“Excellent,” Ermac said. “Another.”

They did that for another half hour until Nix winced and staggered. Her hand flew to her sweaty forehead as she squeezed her eyes shut. Erron watched her carefully, remembering what Ermac had said about psychics and mental strain.

“That is enough for today. We will continue tomorrow,” Ermac said, unconcerned. “We shall return to the palace and you will get the tea.”

Nix nodded, swaying a little on her feet. Ermac turned away but Erron knew what her fluttery eyelids and slumped shoulders meant.

“C’mon, darlin,” he said, taking her elbow. “We ain’t that far.”

“Feels far,” she groaned, but leaned into him as they began walking. “You’re so quiet.”

Erron snorted. He wasn’t a man of many words unless he was in a fight. “So I’ve heard.”

“No.” She glanced up at him, flinched away from the sunlight again. “I can’t hear your thoughts or sense your emotions. I can with almost everyone else, but not you. You’re like this quiet spot.”

Erron hadn’t really thought about how it must have been from her side of the equation. He knew he was protected from mind-altering magic, but he had no idea how that felt to the psychics.

“Ermac’s never said anything about it,” he said.

“The nature of our abilities and how they affect us is different,” she explained. “I’m more of an empath. Thoughts and emotions are much more salient for me than them.”

Erron shot her a searching look out of the corner of his eye. She looked exhausted, like she was running thin. Ermac was clearly trying to build her stamina, but there was only so much she could take, they’d said so themselves. It wasn’t just a mental toll; Nix was physically affected by her powers too.

“Being around you helps,” she continued. “I don’t have to keep up shields or sort through information with you. I can just… be.”

Never quiet in her mind, never really alone. It sounded the way she’d described it: noisy. Erron grimaced. He had enough baggage in his own head without someone else’s stacking onto it. If she had to focus more on keeping people out than letting them in, it made sense that his mind must have seemed like an oasis.

“I knew it couldn’t just be my good looks,” he joked.

She laughed at that. Tired and quiet, but genuine. “You cover half your face, but what there is to see isn’t half bad, cowboy.”

Erron chuckled, surprised but amused. If she’d been her usual self, he was sure those words never would have left her mouth. As it was, Erron knew how fatigue could make someone just as honest as alcohol.

“So I’m your arm candy now, is that it?” he teased.

“Could be,” she answered. “You’ve got a good look.”

A nicer guy wouldn’t have been poking at her. Good thing he wasn’t a nicer guy. “Oh, and what is that?” he asked.

“Rugged cowboy outlaw,” she declared, “I had so many friends in my dimension who would’ve been thirsty for you.”

He didn’t recognize the exact phrasing, but Erron understood what she meant from the context.

“That’s a mighty fine compliment,” he chuckled.

“Ah, I don’t think you would’ve liked my old friends,” she mused, “but you’re welcome anyway.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence that lasted until they reached the palace. The guards nodded to both of them as they passed; Nix offered a polite smile in return.

“You need tea, right?” he asked.

She sighed and rubbed her temples. “Yeah. Ermac developed a blend that helps with the migraines and boosts my ‘magical energy’ or whatever.”

He ambled with her to the kitchen, where she entered with the familiarity of someone who was there often. Erron himself rarely had a reason to visit, so he followed behind her as she navigated the busy kitchen. One of the cooks glanced up as she approached, glancing between her and Erron worriedly.

“Hey, Nixie. Everything alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she answered with a warm smile, “I’m just here for some tea.”

The cook nodded and turned to do as she’d asked. A minute later, a steaming cup was delivered into her hands with a thin chain hanging over the side.

“Steep for three minutes,” he reminded her.

“Right. Thank you, Kez,” she said, “I’ll see you later.”

Her business apparently concluded, Erron followed her back into the hall and towards her room.

“Nixie?” he asked.

She shot him a look. Erron tried not to laugh; it was like being glared at by a kitten. “Don’t even think about it.”

He considered it for a moment. The look she’d give him if he did would be priceless...

“Ah, don’t worry,” he drawled, “I like ‘darlin’ and ‘sugar’ better.”

She rolled her eyes, but he could still see the pleased little smile that she tried to hide behind her hair. He hadn’t expected how much she’d (not so) secretly like the dumb little nicknames… or how much he would either.

“Well, you should feel honored,” she huffed. “You’re the only one who I let call me that.”

“Let?” he asked, amused and skeptical. What was she going to do to stop someone from calling her whatever the hell they wanted? Blink at them to death?

“Most people here are afraid of me,” she explained, shrugging. “I so much as look at them and they run for cover. It’s the magic, I guess…”

Right, they didn’t have the protection of a contract formed decades earlier to make them all but impervious to psychics like Nix. To anyone who hadn’t had a single conversation with her, she probably seemed like a walking, talking, lavender-haired weapon. Scarier because she was so deceptively nonthreatening, like a poisoned cupcake. Ermac was intimidating even before they started glowing, but Nix was a different sort of dangerous.

“About half the kitchen staff and maids are friendly with me,” she continued. “Plus, there’s you and Ermac. Well… Ermac’s my teacher, but…”

She didn’t finish. They’d reached her room. Funny, the walk seemed shorter than usual. She turned to him as she took a sip of tea, winced a little at the flavor.

“Bitter,” she answered his unspoken question. “Thank you for escorting me. I appreciate your company.”

He tipped his hat low, so she wouldn’t see how her phrasing affected him. She probably hadn’t noticed; it didn’t mean anything, but she’d said that she liked _his_ company. No one had said something like that to him in a long time. Erron Black was a mercenary, a hired gun. He didn’t make friends or play nice with others, and that was fine by him. Still, to hear it from someone like Nix, who he actually kinda liked…

“Pleasure was all mine, darlin’.”

He caught her bitten off giggle as he tilted his hat back again and couldn’t help grinning in response. That smile of hers was infectious; good thing he had the mask to hide it.

“I’m going to finish my tea and take a nap. Have a good day, Erron.”

He nodded and turned to leave, waving over his shoulder. “Sweet dreams.”


	4. Because That's What Friends Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erron has a startling revelation thanks to an offhand comment from Nix.
> 
> Nix... probably know exactly what she's doing.

The trips to the market continued. Every other day found Erron escorting Nix and Ermac into the crowded market to practice her skills. He was essentially useless, unable to offer advice and just standing around while she practiced until her migraine signaled the end. He went anyway.

Someone might have been stupid enough to bother her if she’d been on her own. Someone might have interrupted them if it had been just Ermac and Nix, and she needed to concentrate. But two of Kotal Kahn’s highest-ranking officers? Not a chance in hell.

Which was, coincidentally, what the market was starting to feel like. Even going in the morning, the sun was hot enough to be dangerous. Ermac didn’t feel it because he was probably more than half dead already. Nix didn’t seem to get overheated with her flowy, light-weight dresses even with that mane of hair she piled up on her head.

Erron, however…

“Erron, you’re sweating. Are you feeling okay?” she asked.

He shot her an envious sideways look. “Just a bit warm, sweetheart.”

She blinked, eyes trailing over him slowly as she put it together. “Yeah, I imagine leather isn’t too comfortable in this weather.”

“Don’t you dare start rhyming on me,” he groaned. That would just be unbearable. She’d clearly been reading too many spell books or something.

Her mouth split into a gleeful little smile. “I’ll try. In the meantime, would you like a spell to cool off?” She wiggled her fingers at him.

He arched his eyebrows and looked her up and down in return. Would something like that even work on him? If she knew what she was doing it probably wouldn’t hurt, but the key was that she had to know what she was doing. She’d only been practicing with her magic for a couple months.

“You’re not going to turn me into a butterfly or something, right?” he snorted. “Even on accident?”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile stayed in place. “Oh, please. Only a twenty-percent chance.”

He jerked away, and she burst into laughter, arching a mocking eyebrow at his narrow-eyed glare.

“I’m kidding! Zero-percent chance of butterfly-ism,” she promised, “This is a spell I use on myself all the time, so I’m really good with it. I wouldn’t risk anything happening to you.”

He shook his head, not sure if he was quite willing to believe her. “And why is that? Because I’m the emperor’s body guard?”

Now she snorted. “Well, I mean, yeah, but you’re also my friend, you weirdo.”

He faced forward again so she wouldn’t see how his eyes widened. She considered him a friend? Well, shit. He didn’t have time to think about that; he could feel her expectant silence, the curious tilt of her head.

“So what d’you say?” she asked. “Or is the cowboy outlaw afraid of my magic sparkles?”

He shot her an incredulous look. “Fuck, you’re brave.” Before she could get too smug, he waved a hand at her. “Fine. Do you air-condition spell.”

She grinned at him. “Give me some skin.”

He was so startled by those words leaving her mouth that he actually stumbled a little. She was laughing so hard that he had to pull her out of the way of an oncoming cart. As she leaned into him, covering her mouth as if that would muffle it, he pinched her.

“Ow! Don’t be mean!” She flapped her hand at him, still giggling. “I need some bare skin for it to work. Here.”

She took his hand, trapped it between both of hers. “Make sure I don’t run into anything, please?” and then she started murmuring.

As if he hadn’t been doing that before.

Her hands were small— perhaps half the size of his and so soft. He guided her through the foot traffic as her eyes got distant and glow-y. A tingle started along his skin, spread from where she touched him to the rest of his body until a coolness washed over him like he had his own personal breeze.

A second later, she was blinking at him with clear eyes. “See? No butterflies!”

“It’s a miracle,” he deadpanned. At her pointed look, he huffed and relented. “Thank you, sugar.”

She hummed as she let his hand go. “You’re very welcome, cowboy.”

 ***

“ _You’re also my friend, you weirdo._ ”

That was what she’d said at the market. Fuck.

He took three big gulps of his (very alcoholic) drink. Nix didn’t say that kind of shit to manipulate, and he also knew she’d probably meant it. It was easy for someone like her to make friends, to call people friends. She was a friendly person. She’d lived the kind of life that allowed for that.

Erron didn’t make friends. People didn’t call him their friends. Except Nix had, because she genuinely enjoyed his company or something like that. And if he was honest— fuck. He took another long drink.

And _if he was honest_ , he genuinely liked Nix’s company too. She didn’t ask probing questions. Had a good— if mostly clean— sense of humor. Was easy on the eyes to boot. So did that mean she was his friend?

He groaned into his glass.

What did that even mean, anyway? It had been a long time since Erron had had friends. His allegiance would be to Kotal Kahn as long as he signed Erron’s checks, so to speak. Then again, Nix was in the same situation. She probably had even more loyalty to the emperor, considering he’d provided her with food and shelter and the whole shebang.

Clearly, she didn’t seem to think “friends” interfered with the job. On the other hand, she’d never done a job before, so what would she know about loyalties crossing and priorities scrambling?

He swallowed the rest of his drink and sighed. Fuck it. He’d play it by ear. He was probably overthinking it. Things tended to work out between him and her when he stopped overanalyzing and wasn’t an asshole.

The first part would be easy with another drink in him.

The second… he’d work on it.

 ***

Nix was improving. Steady and not even slowly, she was improving. Her days in the market were becoming more productive and less taxing as time went on. Kotal Kahn was as excited as Erron had ever seen him to get his new psychic functioning as a member of his retinue. Ermac insisted it would only be a couple weeks before she’d be useful.

Erron was kind of impressed. He didn’t understand a damn thing about magic, but he knew she was accelerating at an above-average speed. She wasn’t any better at being situationally aware while she was doing it, but Erron figured that would come later. For the moment, she could pick out specific people from a crowd and report their thoughts and feelings.

The day finally came when she finished her lessons and she didn’t have even a headache to drive her back to the palace. Ermac walked ahead of them like always, but Nix hung back and turned to Erron.

“Could we look around the market for a bit?” she asked. “Please?”

He arched an eyebrow. “You’re not a prisoner, you know. If you wanna stay, then stay. I’m not your babysitter.”

She bit her lip for a second and Erron waited. “I only know the route we take to get to this spot. I don’t want to get lost… could you escort me for a little while longer?”

He debated, not sure which way he was leaning. On principle alone, he should have said no. Like he’d said, he wasn’t her babysitter and he had shit to do. Then again, it wasn’t shit he actually wanted to do, and he could use the walk. Besides, he was pretty sure she needed it as much as him. Maybe she’d stop bouncing her way down the street.

“An hour,” he told her, “or whenever you get bored. Whichever comes first.”

Her whole face lit up. “Thank you!” she chirped.

He made sure to grumble so she wouldn’t get too cocky, and then made a wide gesture. “Well? Where do you want to start?”

She made a beeline for the jewelry stand. Erron followed, amused despite himself. She’d been using her powers to check in on the pregnant woman who ran it. Nix had told them how the mother-to-be had gone from conflicted, to nervous, to excited, to conflicted again, to content within the month since they’d started.

“Why am I not surprised?” he muttered.

She either ignored him or didn’t hear. The pregnant woman glanced between them as they approached, seemingly unable to decide who made her more nervous— Nix or Erron. Nix was an unknown element who’d been showing up with him and Ermac for weeks. However, Erron was well-known as Kotal Kahn’s gun-toting bodyguard. She apparently decided Erron was her bigger concern.

“Is… everything alright?” she asked. “I haven’t done anything wrong, have I? I have all the permits.”

Erron shook his head. “You’re fine, lady.”

Nix nudged him with her elbow and spoke up, voice soothing and friendly. “He’s just showing me the market and I love your jewelry.”

Whether it was something psychic or just Nix’s natural effect on people, the woman’s shoulders relaxed, and her expression smoothed out.

“Oh, why thank you!” the woman beamed.

Nix held her hand out across the stall, lips curved to reveal the gleam of her straight white teeth. “I’m Nix.”

“Juna.” She took Nix’s hand with a gentle squeeze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve seen you in the market a lot recently. Business for the emperor?”

She flicked her eyes at Erron as she asked, and he opened his mouth to remind her that it was none of her damn business, but Nix beat him to it.

“Something like that.” Vague, but polite. Probably better than the gruff response he’d had lined up. “But I’m off the clock now, so I wanted to visit some of the stalls I’ve seen.”

“And this was your first stop. I’m honored.”

Juna and Nix got to chatting, the latter asking about the types of metals and jewels and how the pieces were made. Erron tuned most of it out, all of it information he already knew or had no interest in. He wasn’t hanging around for himself though, and Nix seemed thrilled.

“If you’d like to see the forge, I can show you,” Juna offered.

Nix perked right up. “Really? Erron, would you mind?”

He glanced at her, then at Juna. The woman didn’t seem to have any alternative motives; she appeared just as charmed with Nix as Nix was with her. Besides, he doubted a pregnant woman would risk it.

“Whatever you want, sugar. I’m just along for the ride.”

Juna stared at him, eyes a little round. He arched a challenging eyebrow at her, daring her to say whatever she was thinking about the thoughtless endearment. He didn’t mean anything by it. He just liked the way Nix flushed— like she was as she cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Thank you,” she said to him before turning back to Juna. “So, the forge?”

Juna blinked before wisely looking back at Nix. “Uh, right, of course! Just follow me.”

They rounded the booth and stepped into the cool interior of the jeweler’s shop. The entire first floor was open, leading straight to the courtyard at the back of the building where the oven sat burning. Molds for casting and forging tools were scattered on the stone and wooden tables around them.

“This is just where we cast the metals and cut the jewels,” Juna explained.

As she spoke, a man with short, dark hair stepped in from the back-courtyard wiping sweat from his brow. He froze as he saw Erron and Nix standing there, his eyes skirting to his wife.

“Is… everything alright?” he asked, a fresh sweat starting up along his forehead.

“I’m just giving them a quick tour, Genji,” Juna assured him. “Could you watch the front?”

“Of course, darling.” He kissed his wife’s forehead before escaping through the front door.

Juna showed them two of the upper levels— one for putting the pieces together and setting the stones, another for finishing and polishing them. It didn’t take all that long and Erron even thought it was interesting at a few points. When the tour was over, Nix paid for a set of golden bands and said her goodbyes to Juna and her husband.

They travelled the stalls for a little while longer, Nix meeting people and occasionally buying things. Eventually he glanced at the sun and tapped her arm. She turned to him, the street food he’d pointed out to her held in both hands as she snacked on it.

“About time we head back, Sparkles.”

Thankfully, she didn’t argue with him. “Sounds good. Thanks for doing this, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They walked back to the palace together, Nix mostly content with eating her meat-filled snack. He didn’t see her eat often, but when he did it was always like a bird. Fruits and breads and cheeses, mostly. She wasn’t built like it, so he figured she got heartier stuff at her other meals, but it was good to see her getting some real protein.

“I always feel the urge to share with you, but you’re always wearing that mask,” she said, not with the disdain some had when they mentioned it. There was, however, the usual curiosity.

He shot her a warning look. Not as harsh as it would have been with anyone else, but enough to convey a message that made her put her hands up in mock surrender.

“I won’t ask why or anything like that,” she promised, “I was just going to ask if you ever take it off.”

He arched an eyebrow, but she was back to eating again. She’d only bought a couple from the vendor, but she was a slow eater, and she was using it as a prop to express her casual interest. She was lucky he was amused by that little touch.

“Well, yeah. I gotta eat, you know,” he huffed.

She waved a dismissive hand. “I meant for nonessential stuff. I didn’t know if there were times when you walk around the palace without it.”

“Not unless I’ve got an injury. Even then, I keep to my rooms,” he replied.

She hummed in understanding and chewed for a minute before speaking again. “So, I know you won’t answer if you don’t want to and I understand, but what about, like—” she wiggled her fingers “—sex and stuff? One-night-stands and all. Do you leave it on, or…?”

He wasn’t sure if he was irritated or amused by her line of questioning, but definitely surprised. As he was figuring out, Nix was actually kind of a flirt and all those shy midnight walks had been her off her game.

Was this part of being her friend? The impromptu personal questions and doing little favors for each other? Shit, it sounded like it.

Alright, fine.

“I keep the lights off,” he answered.

Her eyes widened. “Ooh. That sounds dangerous. I think I’d trip and hurt myself.”

He chuckled and shot her an incredulous look. “Not if you don’t leave shit on the floor.”

“Never underestimate my ability to injure myself,” she said with utmost seriousness.

Considering how many close calls she had just walking through the market… he was inclined to take her word for it. Still, he laughed and shook his head while she shrugged and polished off the rest of her snack.

They parted ways just inside the palace. Erron had to report in to the emperor and she had enough energy for more studying.

“Thanks again, for hanging out with me,” she called as she walked away. “Next time we’ll do something you want to do.”

Well, fuck. He had to come up with a haunt that wasn’t a hole in the wall. That’s what friends did… right?


	5. Friendly Outings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erron finally chooses a friendly outing for him and Nix. It doesn't go ENTIRELY wrong.

“You want me to go with you… now?”

Nix shot a furtive glance at her window, where the stars were blinking in the sky. She was sitting at her desk, three different books open in front of her. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, bare feet on the seat with the rest of her. How she could curl up so small was a mystery for another time.

Erron rolled his eyes and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Don’t tell me you got a curfew, sugar.” He knew she didn’t.

She snorted and stuck her tongue out at him, but scooted her chair back with interest. Alright, so she wasn’t horrified by the idea. She was just a little confused, if he was reading her furrowed brow right.

“Of course not. I just haven’t gone out since I got here,” she replied. “And now you want to… take me to a bar?”

Look, he’d thought about it. Erron was a smart son of a bitch, he just didn’t always think things through. But this was something he’d thought through.

Nix had said somewhere that _he_ wanted to go, and Nix tended to mean what she said. So it had to be a place he wanted to be. Trouble was, if he wasn’t sleeping or working, he only wanted to be in taverns.

Fine.

He’d seen Nix drink wine with her food, and she’d even mentioned partying with her friends in her previous dimension. Therefore, he knew that she drank, and she would probably be willing to go. The real problem became where.

See, despite his job and his money, Erron never went anywhere reputable. He didn’t go to bars for company, he went for _other_ things and to get that, he had to go to the seedy shitholes he fit right into. Nix did not fit into those places. Even if, by some miracle, she wasn’t terrified and disgusted by the type of characters in his usual haunts, she would attract a lot of unwanted attention.

If Erron was looking for a fight, she’d be a perfect lure. But if he was taking her on a friendly outing, he wasn’t getting drunk, and he sure as hell wasn’t looking for a fight. And if he was taking her to try Outworld alcohol, he was going to keep an eye on her while he was at it.

Problem was… he had no idea where a “good” bar would be. Outworld wasn’t like Earthrealm, where there were different bars for different people. Bars were just bars in Outworld, and most of them were the kind he frequented. He’d have rather shot himself in the foot than ask someone for help, so he’d figured he was shit out of luck.

A week had passed before he’d swallowed his pride and asked Juna’s husband if he knew any decent places. Then Erron, being a paranoid bastard, had taken a trip to the bar by himself to double-check it was Nix-friendly. And it was, so there he was.

“You ain’t drank ‘til you’ve drank in Outworld.”

She grinned and stood. “Alright, I’m game.”

Erron had no reason for it, but he was still surprised that she agreed. He expected a little hesitation or maybe her usual torrent of questions… but nope. Apparently, she meant it when she said they were friends. And friends took each other on… outings.

“Am I okay dressed like this or should I change?” she asked.

Erron was about to tell her she was fine as she was but… she was still really conspicuous. He didn’t think they’d catch trouble, but it was probably better if she didn’t dress like a water sprite.

“Got anything more… casual?” he asked.

She hesitated, considered. “Yeah, I think so.”

Even her “casual” would stand out, but not as much. She was still wearing a lot of white (and seriously what the fuck was up with that?) but the material was thicker, and she was even wearing pants for once. It was the best he could hope for on short notice.

Next time. Shit, they’d have to see how _this_ time went.

They walked side by side into the city, making small talk the whole way. The bar wasn’t far from the palace, part of the reason why he’d picked it. Less time out in the open and a shorter return trip if she ended up being a lightweight.

The bar had a musician and a singer on a platform towards the back, playing with rather than over the din of patrons. There were tables to one side, the bar proper on another. There was an upper level too, about half a floor with a railing that could overlook the first. A few people were up there, playing bar games.

The first level was only about half-full and still too early to be rowdy. There were enough tables and enough seats at the bar for them to take either and still have some privacy. The bartender was busy wiping down some glasses and didn’t notice them enter. For the better; Erron didn’t want him making a big deal out of it.

“Bar or table?” Erron asked.

Nix tilted her head, then shrugged. “Bar?”

He nodded and led her to a couple empty stools separated from the others that were occupied. Nix had to hop a little onto hers, which made him chuckle loud enough that she shot him a salty look.

“At least I can clear doorways,” she huffed.

“I’m not that tall,” he chuckled. “You’re just short.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not in my own dimension.”

He arched his eyebrow, his thoughts clear; she wasn’t in her own dimension anymore, and she was short. From the mutinous look she shot him in return, she was aware. Saying so would only further incur her wrath. The bartender chose that moment to make a timely appearance, only a little wide-eyed to see Erron Black sitting in his bar.

“What do you like to drink?” Erron asked Nix.

“I like sweet or smooth. Nothing bitter.”

Erron ordered their drinks, nothing too strong to start. The bartender rushed off to fill their order and Nix turned back to him.

“So is this how you go drinking and eating usually?” she asked, gesturing at the bandana secured tightly around the lower-half of his face.

“More or less. I figured it was kinda stupid to take you to a bar and not drink myself.”

She giggled and nodded. “Yeah, I’d have to agree with that. I like that you still have the hat, though. Very iconic.”

The bartender returned with a small cup in his hand that he offered Nix. “To see if you like it,” he explained.

She sipped it carefully, eyes drifting towards the ceiling as she considered. After a second, she hummed and nodded, smiling.

“Whatever it is, I like it. A glass, please?” she asked.

“Right away,” the bartender said, then glanced at Erron. “The same for you, sir?”

Erron nodded once with a flick of his fingers and the man scurried off to fill out their order. Nix arched her eyebrows at him in what was undoubtedly meant to communicate something, though he had no idea what. When he just mimicked the expression back at her, she leaned her elbow on the bar and set her chin in her palm.

“You could be nicer, you know,” she teased. “It wouldn’t kill you to say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ every once in a while.”

Erron snorted and braced his own elbow against the edge of the bar. “Now, you don’t know that. It could.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that’s what they mean when they say, ‘killed with kindness’.”

Erron chuckled. “I could rename my gun Kindness. Would that work for you, sugar?”

She blinked and sat up straight again, arching a single eyebrow this time. “You gun _already_ has a name?”

Erron pulled his revolver from its holster and turned it so she could see the engraving on the side reading “Sidewinder.” She pressed her lips together and shot him a look that desperately tried not to be amused and failed miserably. The bartender returned with their drinks and Erron did him the favor of holstering his gun again.

“Cheers, cowboy,” she said, tapping the lip of her glass to his.

“Cheers, darlin’.”

 

Nix was responsible about drinking. She paced herself and demanded that Erron feed her around the end of her second glass, about an hour later. The bartender served them a plate of what Nix called “snacky foods” that she picked at while they talked and drank.

The conversation was good. Erron wasn’t bored, wasn’t irritated. Nix was uncannily skilled at directing the conversation as needed, keeping it lighthearted long before it could steer towards solemn waters. She was also an unorthodox— though still funny— storyteller, gesticulating wildly with her hands and speaking with such enthusiasm that it made her flush.

Somewhere along the way, she got ahold of his hate. Erron wanted to believe he’d let her wear it, but he had a sneaking suspicion she’d stolen it while he wasn’t paying attention. Either way, he liked the way it looked on her, so he wasn’t going to ask for it back anytime soon.

Erron was almost surprised to realize that he wasn’t just humoring her; he was enjoying himself.

Which meant that something had to ruin it, of course.

They’d been there for a couple hours and Erron was certain that Nix was comfortably tipsy. She’d finished her fourth glass and ordered a big cup of water to drink while she polished off her snacks. Erron had matched her drink for drink and hardly felt it himself, but he ordered a glass of water as well.

The bar had filled up around them, though the seat directly next to Erron remained empty. A man had made his lady-friend take the seat next to Nix. There weren’t any other tables left, but the crowd was content, if noisy. There were a few guys on the upper level that were starting to get heated, some sort of disagreement about a game they were playing.

A tap on his forearm brought his attention back to Nix, who leaned a little closer to be heard.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” she said.

He gave her a quick scan, but her cheeks were only a little rosy. Still. “You alright on your own?” he asked.

She grinned and nodded, hopped off the stool without any trouble. “Just a little buzz. I’ll be okay.”

Sure enough, she navigated around the tables and other patrons with no trouble. Erron tracked her until she disappeared through a wooden door at the back of the establishment. With her gone, Erron took a more thorough glance at the bar.

Though he’d paid attention to her the whole evening, he’d never let his guard down. He had a sixth-sense about trouble, about people who would be trouble. There were three ragged-looking men with shifty eyes whispering to each other at a table in a dark corner. There was another, slightly cleaner-looking guy staring a little too intently at the woman singing on the platform.

Upstairs, the argument escalated into a scuffle. Fists hitting flesh, barely coherent curses and threats. The crack and splinter of wood. The bartender jumped, glanced at Erron pleadingly.

Well, fuck. Erron sighed and stood, hooked his thumbs in his belt as he ascended the stairs. There were five of them. Two had already come to blows, another two were getting there. A fifth sat back on a stool chugging every drink he could get his hands on.

He’d have to break it up before he could kick them out.

Erron started to pull his gun from his belt, then figured the bartender probably wouldn’t like it if he shot a hole in the ceiling. He personally didn’t care what the bartender liked, but Nix probably did. With a scowl to himself, he slipped a hand beneath his handkerchief, pressed his middle finger and thumb to the corners of his mouth.

He blew hard, the piercing whistle splitting the startled pairs apart.

“Mind explaining what the fuck you idiots are doing up here?” he demanded.

One of the men on the ground squinted through the haze of his own drunkenness. He had a split lip and a shaved head, a blue tunic torn at the neck and a necklace with the fang of some creature dangling at the end. A couple gold teeth gleamed in his mouth.

“Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” he slurred.

Before Erron could answer, one of the standing men nudged him with his foot. There was an ugly scar twisting around one eye. “That’s Erron Black, you fucking idiot. Kotal Kahn’s guy.”

The other standing one shook his head. “Nah, Kotal Kahn’s guy is the mummy with the black bandages.”

Suddenly, Erron was way too fucking sober.

“No,” Scarface insisted. “That’s the other one.”

Erron rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up and get out.”

The first one, Gold-tooth, blinked and squinted some more. “That ain’t Erron fucking Black. Black’s got that hat and the mask. This is some fucking poser.”

He stumbled to his feet and stormed right up to Erron, getting in his half-covered face. The man smelled like sweat and alcohol. Erron stood his ground, arching an eyebrow in open challenge.

“I’m not gonna be told to leave by some fucking _wannabe_ ,” Gold-tooth snarled. “Mind your own fucking business.”

Erron grabbed the front of his filthy, stained shirt and glared. “I’ve been having a pretty good night, so I’ll give you one last fucking chance. Leave right now, or I’ll show you who’s the poser here.”

“You’re going to eat that fucking bandana, shithead,” Gold-tooth roared, throwing an arm back.

Then he froze. Every part of him went unnaturally still. It was like all his muscles had seized except for his eyes, which darted around wildly in his skull. A purple glow enveloped him before he went flying back into the guy he’d previously been fighting. Erron’s hand twitched, still suspended midair from where he’d been holding the guy’s shirt.

He half-turned. Nix stood at the top of the stairs, his hat still settled on her head. In the shadow beneath the brim, her eyes were glowing. Apart from a slight frown, her expression was… blank. She strode towards them, walked straight past Erron without even glancing at him. He reached out and caught her shoulder before she could go too far. The muscle twitched and tensed beneath his hand.

“That’s enough now,” she said, voice smooth and low and smoky. “There’s no need for violence.”

Gold-tooth was still stuck, but the other four nodded like bobbleheads. She waved a hand and Erron caught sight of a few curling symbols lit up to her wrist along the back.

“You should leave,” she continued in that same weird tone. “Go home. Sleep this off.”

They filed past her without hesitation, rigid and mechanical until they hit the bottom of the stairs and shot off like bullets. Erron briefly watched them go to be sure they’d listened, but after the second one he turned his gaze back to Nix. She was standing very still. When the fourth was halfway down the stairs, Gold-tooth shot up.

His eyes ricocheted between Erron and Nix for a few moments, his chest heaving. Erron jerked his head towards the stairs and the man bolted, nearly fell in his rush to get out the door. Downstairs, it was dead silent.

Nix still hadn’t moved.

“You alright, darlin’?” he asked.

When she didn’t respond, he squeezed her shoulder. “Nix?”

She jerked, shook her head a little and turned back to him. Her smile was hesitant, unsteady at the corners.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“That was a helluva magic trick,” he said, glad his unease was masked.

He was immune to that sort of thing, but it was still unnerving to see first-hand. Shit, Nix looked pretty unnerved herself.

Her voice was a little stronger. “I just wanted to stop it before it got… bad,” she murmured. “Five against one seemed like… a lot.”

Erron shook himself off, decided he’d think about it later. Nix looked troubled and lost and smaller than herself. They were friends and he’d brought her out to have fun. It was his fault. He’d gone up for a fight with some drunk idiots, and she’d felt the need to intervene. The least he could do was try to cheer her up.

“Aw, ya wound me, sugar,” he drawled, pouring his Texan accent on thick. She blinked, a slow sweep of long lashes. He swallowed past his dry throat and continued on. “You think so poorly of little ol’ me? I coulda taken ‘em. These guns ain’t just for show, ya know.”

And then, just to really break her out of it, he flexed a bicep for her. She blinked again, faster this time and then, finally, her lips curled up and she giggled. He arched an eyebrow as he hooked his thumbs in his belt again.

“What, still not impressed?” he asked.

She just started laughing harder, one hand holding her stomach. “I-I am! I just— fuck, I just didn’t want your bandana to come loose while you were kicking ass.”

He chuckled as she fanned herself, cheeks flushed bright. That was better; she was laughing the nerves off. He tipped his hat back from her face a little, then started guiding her back down the stairs again.

“You’re my guardian angel then, I suppose,” he mused.

“Maybe if I’m guarding you from yourself,” she scoffed.

By the time they reached the ground floor again, everyone was pretending not to notice them. Erron figured that was for the better. Nix was hiding it well, but her hands were still unsteady. Luckily, he knew just how to fix that.

All he had to do was look at the bartender and two shots for each of them were set in front of them. She hopped back onto her stool and angled so that she faced Erron as he sat.

“Cheers to you being a badass, angel,” he said.

“Cheers,” she echoed.

They tapped the edges of their shot glasses together, and then Nix knocked hers back like a pro. Erron was so impressed, he was a beat late drinking his own. They managed to do the second one in sync and then she asked the bartender for another plate of food.

“Need it after the energy I spent,” she explained.

Erron nodded and ordered them another set of drinks on top of that.

***

On the walk back to the palace, he kept vigilant for the men from earlier, but he doubted they’d show their faces again. She hadn’t hurt them, but they’d looked like they’d seen the devil when they’d left. He doubted they’d be brave enough to get within a hundred yards of her ever again.

As they walked, Nix tilted her face up to him and grinned.

“Thank you for this, by the way,” she said, “It was really fun.”

It had sure as shit been better than getting piss-drunk and swinging on the first guy that looked like a decent fight. Hell, it had nearly ended up that way anyway, but Nix had handled it instead. He had never considered her getting in a fight considering how she’d gotten to Outworld, but she didn’t have to worry about it with powers like that.

“Yeah, it was. We’ll do it again sometime,” he promised.

Her smile was so bright it could have lit up the entire street like daylight. They walked the rest of the way to the palace in companionable silence, and then he escorted her to her room. She turned to him at the door and set his hat back on his head, leaning up on the balls of her feet to do it.

“I’ve been really nervous at night ever since…” She pressed her lips together before continuing. “But it’s less scary with you.”

She was being dangerously sincere and Erron wasn’t sure how to respond. Did friends say things like that to each other? What were friends supposed to say? Thankfully, she took the pressure off by continuing in a light tone.

“Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “I have business with the emperor tomorrow when you go to the market, so you and Ermac are going with a squad.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe I’ll convince Ermac not to go, then. Everyone in the market is afraid of the guards.”

Erron arched an eyebrow. “You can convince Ermac of anything?”

She shrugged. “If it sounds logical enough.”

He chuckled and nodded as he took a small step away. “I’ll remember that. Sweet dreams, angel.”

“Good night, Erron. Good luck with the emperor tomorrow.”

He’d probably need it.


	6. You Can't Keep It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nix makes a friend and Erron is probably going to get blamed for it. Also, some set up for later plot.

Kotal Kahn’s business was on the far side of Outworld, in a collection of villages called the Badlands that (ironically) hadn’t been too ravaged by the war with Mileena. The administrator of the Badlands had been sending some questionable reports back to the capital city and the emperor wanted to investigate for himself. As he’d told Nix the night before, Erron was along for the ride as his body guard.

The Badlands’ villages started about a quarter of the way up a dormant volcano, then fanned out below for a few miles. The outer settlements were agricultural because of the fertile silt leftover from the volcano’s active days. The inner settlements mined metals and jewels within the rock and had begun to expand into the hollowed-out mountainside.

The administrator resided there, in a mansion that could double as a fort if he was so inclined. It was well-furnished, almost as nice as Kotal Kahn’s palace. A little too nice for the reports that had been sent back to the capital. Erron shot the emperor a pointed glance, but it was clear from the look he returned that he was thinking the same thing.

They were led to a room with a table in the middle, stacked with food. There were chairs everywhere, lounges and couches and armchairs, and most of the floor was covered by carpet. A fire was lit in one wall to fight the chill being in the earth, and lit sconces lined the windowless walls.

The administrator greeted them almost as soon as they arrived. Massac was about the same height as Erron, a little leaner in muscle and softer around the stomach from a cushy lifestyle. His hair fell past his shoulders, dark and straight, clipped back from his pointy face.

“Emperor,” Massac greeted, “I am so honored that you have visited— but I must wonder the reason?”

“I need no reason to travel my own lands,” Kotal Kahn replied.

Massac ducked his head, the picture of humble. It didn’t quite fit with all the rich furs and expensive jewelry he wore. “Of course, my lord. How may I be of service?”

“There is much to discuss,” Kotal Kahn began, “beginning with these reports.”

***

On the way back to the palace, Erron glanced at Kotal Kahn. Their trip had been surprisingly bloodless, and he was curious about why. He wouldn’t ask, but…

“I believe Massac is culpable for these faulty reports, but I am not sure how deeply it goes,” Kotal Kahn explained without prompting.

“You could’ve beat the answers out of him,” Erron pointed out. “Or I could’ve.” After all, that was what he was being paid for.

The emperor chuckled. “Indeed, but there are quieter ways of dealing with this.”

Erron caught on after a second’s thought. “Nix.”

Kotal Kahn sat back and crossed his arms over his chest with a pleased smile. “A fitting test of her abilities, is it not?”

It was. They could assess how deeply and covertly she could look at people’s minds while keeping it low-stakes. Little chance of violence, and no responsibility to deal with the perpetrators afterwards. All she’d have to do was point out the culprits.

“Yeah, she’ll be thrilled,” Erron answered, shrugging.

Kotal Kahn seemed amused by that. “That is good to hear.”

***

“That psychic…”

Erron took his time looking up from his gun, a mild glance from beneath the brim of his hat. Reptile glared at him on the other side of the table, tail whipping back and forth across the floor. Fuck, he’d barely been back an hour, and the lizard was already at it.

“What about her?” Erron drawled.

Reptile let out a wordless hiss. “She acquired a… _friend_ at the market today, and she’s brought it back here.”

Erron’s first thought was “of course she did” because it was Nix. Nix had made friends with a good half of the market already, and she always seemed intent on making more. Everyone she met seemed just as welcoming towards her, too, which only encouraged her.

His second thought was that she’d gotten overzealous. Erron had been very clear that she couldn’t bring people back to the palace without his go-ahead. He was being paid for a job and he had to clear palace guests before they started lounging around Kotal Kahn’s palace.

His third thought was that Nix was a _psychic_. She probably had a better read on people’s intentions than he ever could. He wasn’t clear on the specifics of her abilities, but that empathy probably told her whether someone had ulterior motives.

“Why the hell are you coming to me about it?” Erron asked.

After all, Reptile had just as much authority as Erron in Kotal Kahn’s military. If he didn’t like that Nix had a friend around, then he could tell her himself. Unless, of course…

“Are you afraid of her, too?”

Reptile hissed, but the lack of explicit denial was all the answer Erron needed. He half-laughed, half-scoffed, not sure if he was more amused or irritated. Tiny little lady like that and three-quarters of Kotal Kahn’s guard tucked their tails between their legs when she walked by. What the hell were they even being paid for, if they couldn’t speak up to a short woman with pastel hair?

“Fine. I’ll go see what all the fuss is about,” Erron sighed.

That seemed to satisfy Reptile. “She’s in her room.”

Erron put his gun back together as Reptile slithered off. He rocked to his feet and wandered off to Nix’s place. Her heard her laughing as he reached the door, sounding delighted. He tapped his knuckles against the door, heard her feet as she padded over to open it. Her curious face appeared in a crack in the doorway.

“Erron!” she smiled widely. “How was your day with the emperor? Everything go okay?”

He tilted his head in greeting. “Everything went smoothly, of course. What are you up to?”

She blinked, and then understanding dawned across her face. “What a bunch of narcs,” she whined.

His eyebrows shot up, a startled laugh escaping before he could help himself. “So I suppose you have someone in there with you, after all?”

Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. “Not a person, no.”

“Reptile said you brought a… friend here?”

She snorted. “Yeah, but not a human one. I’ll show you.”

She stepped back, let the door swing wide. Erron stepped in and sure enough didn’t see anyone else there. As he turned to arch a questioning eyebrow, there was a sound behind her bed. She bit her lip against sheepish smile.

“Nix?” he asked.

“It was so small and sad and I couldn’t help myself!” she blurted.

Brow furrowed, Erron started to walk towards the sound, only for a little ball of white fur to leap out. It was tiny, even for its species, but it wouldn’t be that way forever.

“Taigore,” he said. “You… have a Taigore cub.”

“Isn’t it so cute?” she squealed, kneeling on the floor.

The cub bound over to her, limbs too long and paws too big for its body. It crawled into her lap and started purring like a motor. She stood with the Taigore in her arms, the little creature nuzzling under her chin. Its tusks hadn’t even started to grow; it looked almost like an Earthrealm tiger.

“Nix… I’m sorry, sunshine, but you can’t keep that thing.”

The look she gave him stopped him dead. She arched her eyebrows as high as they went and set her mouth in the most stubborn line he’d ever seen. Her next words were said slow and firm, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wasn’t going to budge.

Three words and a chill went down his spine.

“I’m. Keeping. Him.”

Erron Black wasn’t a man who panicked. He wasn’t. Nix was going to make him panic.

“And how the hell are you going to explain that to Kotal Kahn?” he asked.

She snorted and shook her head. “I’m not. Kotal Kahn doesn’t care as long as I’m doing what I’m supposed to, and I am.”

Erron glanced between her and the kitten. It had clearly been the runt of its litter, but even so, it would be two- to three- times her size full-grown. At its largest, it could probably bite her head off with one snap of its jaws. Instead of being concerned about that, though, she seemed smug.

“And if the emperor asks, this is my familiar. Plenty of people like me have them. It’ll be nice to have a focus point when you aren’t around,” she added.

Erron was… kind of impressed. Kind of horrified.

“How did you even find it?” he asked.

She folded herself onto the edge of her bed, the kitten curling up in her lap and patting at her fingers with its claws sheathed. He circled closer and settled next to her, watching the cub. Waiting for it to bite her finger off or something. She’d have a spell to fix it if it did, right?

“Well, you know that alley by Visus’s?” she asked.

He squinted as he tried to place the name. “That baker who makes that thing you like?”

She giggled. “Yeah. Well, I found him there behind a bunch of crates and debris.”

She scratched behind its ears, mouth curled up in a soft, fond smile he hadn’t seen her use before.

“You’ve seen those things around, angel,” he tried. “You know how big it’ll get.”

She nodded. “Thereabouts. I’m not sure what to name him yet. Snowball?”

He groaned and shook his head. There as no talking her out of it. Better to just admit defeat than fight a losing battle. “I’m not letting you keep it if you call it Snowball.”

The Taigore cub sat up and considered him, tilting its head curiously. Erron eyed it, knowing in his gut that it was up to no good. Nix seemed oblivious.

“Fine,” she laughed. “Cotton? Ghost?”

“You might have something with Ghost,” he admitted.

It sprung from her lap without warning, aiming for the shiny bullets in the bandoleer around his bicep. Erron’s reflexes were fast enough to catch it before those claws sank into his arm, but then he had the challenge of keeping all his fingers as it decided his fumbling hands were better playmates. When he glanced up, hoping for help, Nix had her lips pressed together trying and failing to hide her smile.

“Ghost it is, then,” she decided.

Which meant she was definitely keeping it.

“Could you get your little bastard,” he demanded.

She laughed again and reached for her new pet. Ghost went to her with only a little growling and showing its— his— already impressive fangs. Erron watched them with the sinking feeling he was going to get blamed if Ghost ate someone.

“We’ll find you a breeder in the market tomorrow. They’ll be able to help you while it grows,” he decided. “You’re not raising that thing without help.”

“Fine, fine,” she relented, “as long as you come to keep me company.”

Erron would never admit that he enjoyed going into the city with her. She was good company, kept him from feeling edgy in the thick crowds and sweltering heat.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, but we’re _only_ going to get you in contact with a breeder. No detours.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re no fun, Erron.”

“Not all of us get to skip around playing fairy princess, Sparkles.”

Her mouth dropped open as she shoved at his shoulder. “Oh yeah, it must be exhausting to stand around glaring all day. Always worried your face is going to stick like that.”

He scowled, which he knew would prove her point, but made her snicker and scrunch up her nose in that way that made the scar on her nose more prominent. For the first time in a long time, he thought about the day she’d appeared in Outworld. Who had hired those men and why?

Erron opened his mouth to ask, but then he remembered how she’d shuddered when she’d spoken of it the next morning. He thought of their late-night run-ins and how haunted her eyes were in those moments. It wasn’t his business. If she wanted to talk about it, she would.

“I thought you said I was handsome?” he teased.

She snorted and glanced away as her cheeks flushed. “I said you weren’t bad to look at,” she shot back.

“Ah, I imagine it’s better when I’m not glaring?” he asked.

She shrugged, still not looking at him. “Maybe.”

He chuckled and tugged gently on a lock of her hair. “You know, Ghost is more convincing at being angry than you.”

She swatted at his hand, mouth splitting into a grin again. “You’re so rude! One of these days I’m gonna kick your ass, Erron Black.”

He laughed. “That’s kinda hot.”

She made a noise that was equal parts exasperated and embarrassed. “You’re not gonna think it’s hot when I win.”

He arched his eyebrows. “That’s even hotter.” He wasn’t entirely kidding, either, but he’d never tell her that.

She covered her eyes and shook her head. “Stooooop! You’re ruining my threats.”

He shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, they’re not very threatening.”

“It does not.”

***

They next day, they travelled to the market to find a Taigore breeder. Erron didn’t know where to begin finding someone competent enough, but Nix had made enough friends that she could ask around for a name and get a legit recommendation. Ghost came with them out of necessity, practically glued to her side as they navigated the streets.

“How do you get him to do that?” Erron asked.

“Psychic link,” she explained, tapping her temple. “It’s low level, but I can remind him not to stray too far.”

That was handy, and they wouldn’t need to worry about him getting into trouble. Maybe they could even train him, pass him off as some sort of protective measure. It could help justify why Nix had a Taigore cub in the first place.

They found a man who was both a breeder and trainer towards the edge of the city, where the jungle began. Nix spent about an hour talking to the man there, discussing Ghost’s care and growth. Erron listened partially out of curiosity, and partially because he wasn’t sure Nix would be able to remember all of it on her own.

Ghost was already two months old, and was lucky Nix had rescued him, apparently. He wouldn’t have lasted on his own, whether he died or dehydration or someone scared of a rogue Taigore. Another breeder had probably abandoned it due to its initially small size, but he’d still grow to be an impressive predator. Nix would have to feed him almost constantly to kick-start his development.

“He’ll grow exponentially once he starts getting the nutrients he needs,” the breeder explained. “He’ll be three-times this size in another two months. You won’t be able to carry him anymore in about ten. He’ll be the size of an Earthrealm tiger in about a year.”

Erron eyed Ghost, who was playing with some other cubs in a pen nearby. The kitten was already a handful, but he couldn’t imagine how it would be in a few months, when Ghost was bigger and more dangerous. Already the little bastard had a penchant for pouncing on Erron if he wasn’t careful.

“What about the tusks?” Erron asked.

“They’ll start growing in when he’s about two years old, but they likely won’t be too large.”

Erron wondered what “too large” meant, but Nix had a more important question.

“When will he be unable to sleep in my bed?”

The man’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You let… you let him sleep with you?”

She blinked. “Yeah. Right up against my side. It’s really cute. When is he going to be too big for that?”

The breeder glanced at Erron, who just crossed his arms and shrugged. Ghost was hers. If she wanted to cuddle the vicious predator, that was her prerogative and there was no stopping her.

The breeder went pale. “W-well… whenever he no longer fits your bed, I suppose.”

She hummed. Erron had the terrible feeling she was going to be asking for a room change within the next year or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm taking some major liberties with Outworld here, if it wasn't already obvious. Kotal Kahn has said the civil war has effected the land, but I figured it was centered more around the capital city and the surrounding areas because Mileena was after him specifically. The realm is still rebuilding, but its coming along fine now that there is peace.
> 
> As far as the environment, the magic of the realm reacts to whoever rules it, which is why the trees no longer have faces and there's more sun than darkness. The general geography and names have remained, though, so the Badlands are the Badlands forevermore. The volcano is probably named Doom or Malignant or something like that. 
> 
> I could find almost no information on Taigores, so I'm also taking liberties with that. I imagine their growth rate is more similar to a tiger than an elephant, hence the rapid growth. However, I figure their lifespan and tusk growth would match elephants. Intelligence will be somewhere between those two, but Ghost will be a social creature because he'd Nix's companion after all.


	7. Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Erron have a close call. Feelings are calling and Erron can't keep hanging up, no matter how many hang-ups he has.
> 
> (the writer apologizes for the terrible joke)

On the way back from the Taigore breeder, they passed through the market. Though Erron had said no detours, Nix needed supplies for Ghost sooner rather than later. He made a show of being aggravated, but even with half his face covered, Nix had learned when he was putting on airs. She waved off his half-hearted complaints with an amused curve to her lips.

They were both aware that he didn’t have to stay if he didn’t want to. She’d explored the market enough that she knew the way back to the palace without his assistance. Even if she did manage to get lost, she knew enough of the vendors that they could give her directions if she asked.

If he was hard-pressed for a reason why he still accompanied her, he could say that he was her protection. Even that was a flimsy excuse at best, because Erron had seen firsthand that she could handle violent situations without having to lift a finger. Besides, she didn’t even go to the market for training anymore— Ermac had called an end to that particular piece of her training. She and Erron went purely for leisure.

“Do you remember those gold bands I bought from Juna a bit ago?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I haven’t seen ‘em since. Have you been wearing them?”

She shook her head, smiling. “I was getting them engraved with some runes that should help with the overload issue.”

He arched his eyebrows. “I thought that training was to help with that?”

She nodded. “My stamina has improved, but the problem is that once I reach my limit, that’s kind of it for me. The bands will help when I feel tired.”

It made sense. Erron hadn’t even realized that was an option. Maybe he’d ask her to figure out something like that for him. It would sure as hell help if they got into another fight like when Shinnok came back.

While he was thinking about it, he didn’t notice that she wasn’t next to him at first. He got about three steps before realizing it was too quiet. He turned. Nix was frozen in the middle of the street, her lips parted a little and eyes glowing. Unease prickled along his skin as he backtracked. Ghost paced at her feet, tail swishing.

“Nix?” he asked. “Everything alright, darlin?”

She blinked. Her eyes widened, face contorted with fear for a split second before she leapt and shoved him aside. A knife buried itself in the wooden side of a stall just behind them. Erron drew his gun, eyes scanning for whoever had been stupid enough to attack them in broad daylight. The people around them had startled at the flying knife, and then panicked at the sight of his gun.

The culprit had already melted into the buzzing onlookers.

“Nix?” he asked.

“Working on it,” she said, eyes lit.

A second later, she jolted and lifted her arm, palm facing out. Her brow creased in concentration, eyes narrowed.

“I got him,” she said. Erron was already searching the crowd. Even though people were afraid, they were moving, trying to get out of the way. Except one. “Hurry, Erron.”

He started to push through the throng— not difficult when they were actively trying to avoid him— but Nix’s voice caught his attention again.

“Wait! There’s—” A flash of metal. “— _fuck!_ ”

There was a spray of crimson. Nix staggered. A man screamed in pain and anger, Ghost’s sharp teeth sunk deep in his forearm. Erron didn’t hesitate, didn’t even think. He fired one shot with perfect aim. The man hit the ground, Ghost landing on his feet unharmed.

Nix was barely standing, her hand still extended, eyes hazy. “Erron, please. I can’t… can’t hold him much longer…”

Pain laced her words as her free hand pressed to the wound in her side. Erron hesitated a second, then darted to the frozen man. He slammed the butt of his gun into the assassin’s head, caught the back of his shirt before he could crumple, and yanked him back to Nix.

She had collapsed on her back, pale and crying and biting her lip so hard it bled. He kneeled by her side and moved her hand to assess the damage for himself. She had somehow moved enough to avoid the knife lodging in her abdomen, but only just. It was deep. Fuck.

“Hey, look at me, angel,” he said, pressing his own hand to the wound. She squinted at him through the pain, her hand gripping his shirt. “You’re gonna be alright. I’ve seen weaker men make it with worse wounds. Just breathe.”

She winced but tried to follow his instructions, eyes searching his. He needed to get her help. Immediately. Where the hell were the guards?

Just as he thought it, a few soldiers on patrol reached them. Erron barked orders as he hefted Nix into his arms, didn’t wait for confirmation before rushing to the palace as quickly as he could.

***

The waiting was hell. Erron had stormed into the medical wing and given the staff one order: fix it. They’d taken Nix, laid her down on a table as she mumbled incoherently, and then they’d ushered Erron in to the hallway. That was where he stayed.

Erron couldn’t let himself think. His thoughts were a warring swirl of anxiety and anger. Nix couldn’t die. He didn’t allow himself to analyze the reasons why, or what he would do if she did. She just couldn’t die.

He distracted himself by distracting Ghost, at first. Like him, the Taigore was pacing the corridor outside her room, snarling at anyone or anything that came too close. However, Ermac put the cub into some sort of magical slumber when they arrived, leaving Erron to explain what had happened. When he’d finished, Ermac disappeared into the room with Nix and the doctors and didn’t return.

Erron wasn’t left to his own devices for long, though, before Kotal Kahn himself arrived, demanding the story all over again.

“The guards have returned with your prisoner,” the emperor said when Erron was finished. “Perhaps you should question him while Phoenix is incapacitated.”

If Erron was honest, Kotal Kahn was probably the best boss he’d had in a long time.

***

“Erron! Did you bring me sweets?”

The last of the sharp tension between his shoulder blades loosened at the sound of Nix’s cheery voice. Ghost, who had slinked in by his legs, immediately approached the bed to check his mistress. Erron hung back, closing the door and giving her his own once over.

She was still a little pale, but anything was better than the way she’d looked in the market. There were dark circles under her eyes as well, he wasn’t sure if that was just because of the energy she’d had to use while recuperating, or because of nightmares. He almost hoped it was the former.

Still, she seemed to be in high spirits, leaning back against a few fluffy pillows. The maids had come through and cleaned her up too, wiped away the blood and brushed her hair smooth. He could almost fool himself into thinking she’d just been laid up with the flu rather than nearly assassinated.

“Why would I bring you sweets?” he asked.

She tried to pout, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “Because that’s what you do when you visit sick or hurt friends!”

He paused only a couple steps into the room, arms out to show that he didn’t have anything on him. Regret and guilt sat thick in his throat. He should have brought her something. He wasn’t so out of touch with people that he didn’t know it was usually polite to bring flowers or something like.

“Sorry, I didn’t…”

“You can make it up to me later,” she assured, then grinned and patted the bed next to her. “Come, sit.”

Erron closed the rest of the space between them and sat gingerly next to her, wary of jostling her. She wriggled a little, adjusted herself and didn’t seem like she was in pain when she did. Ghost leapt up on her other side, for once graceful despite his size and growing limbs. He curled against her leg with his hand in her lap.

“How are you feeling?” Erron asked.

Her lips curved warmly as she placed her hand over his, giving it a little squeeze that did funny things to his chest.

“I’m doing really well. It only hurts a little and it’s healing fast,” she said.

That was better than he could have hoped for, and he spoke without thinking. “Gave me a hell of a scare there, sunshine.”

Her expression softened, her thumb swept over the back of his scarred knuckles. “I was pretty scared myself, but I’m glad you were there, Erron. You saved my life… again.”

Erron had never considered that first day as him “saving” her, because that hadn’t been his intent. It had just been a consequence of killing those mercenaries. He didn’t have the heart to say that though. Nix knew him well enough that she was probably aware, and it didn’t make a difference to her.

She was alive and they were friends and that was really all that mattered in the end.

He didn’t know what else to say. Didn’t think he _could_ say anything else. He hadn’t meant to be so honest about the feelings he’d been repressing since she’d been hurt. Discomfort closed his throat as much as all the unnamed emotions that had had a constant grip on him.

Like always, though, she rescued him. “Oh! I should have asked sooner, but are you okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

He sighed and flipped his hand over, letting her small, cool hand rest in the palm of his. “Not a scratch on me thanks to you, darlin.”

She smiled. “Oh, good! Did you find out who they were and why they tried to kill us?”

Even though she’d probably figured out how he would have gotten that information, Erron knew better than to share the details with her. Nix had already seen and experienced enough violence; she didn’t need to know the details of his “interrogation” while she’d been resting.

“A couple of guys who sympathized with Mileena when she was still alive,” he explained. “Nothing special.”

She snorted. “Are you telling me that’s normal?”

Erron chuckled and shook his head. “It happens, but not often.”

“Fantastic,” she groaned, “and I’m basically useless when it comes to fighting.”

Despite her overdramatic tone, he could tell that she meant it, that it was bothering her. Erron squeezed her hand as she’d done for him, trying to offer reassurance and comfort.

“We don’t keep you around for fighting, sugar,” he reminded her, “but you’re not useless, you’re just inexperienced.”

She sighed. “In the meantime, I’m getting stabbed.”

It was no laughing matter, but Erron chuckled anyway because she needed him to. His nonchalance seemed to set her at ease, so he’d pretend for her sake.

“The boss and I were talking about that,” he admitted. “We’ll get you a bodyguard and I’ll teach you some self-defense.”

Her eyes brightened with interest. “Ooh! Gym days! I’m gonna get buff!”

He rolled his eyes. “Get better first, and then we can talk about turning you into a body-builder.”

She laughed, even as she winced a little and touched her side. Ermac had done some sort of magic spell on her to speed up the healing process, but it wasn’t an instant fix. They’d told the emperor that she’d be back to normal in about two days if she rested. Erron had never been so relieved for all the magic and weirdness that came with Outworld and Ermac.

“Speaking of buff!” she said, clapping her hands together. Erron arched an eyebrow in question. “I wanna see you fight. Can I go with you to the gym while I’m healing?”

He blinked at her, not quite comprehending. Why the hell did she want to go with him to the training grounds? When he asked that exact question, she shrugged with an easy smile.

“You’re always saying you’re such a badass, but I never get to see you in action,” she explained. “Besides, I’ll get bored sitting around here all day.”

It would only be two days, he thought, but didn’t say. Nix had a habit of keeping herself busy; it was a trait they had in common. He would have the same struggle in her position. It was a damn good thing she didn’t have to recuperate the old-fashioned way.

“What about all those books you read?” he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. “All of those require practice, and Ermac told me to take it easy with my abilities.”

Which reminded him of Ermac’s warning from (what felt like) so long ago. Psychics had fragile minds; they handled a lot of strain. It was hard to remember with Nix, who was always smiling and upbeat, bright enough to put the sun to shame. Erron had to remember that she was still under immense stress— living in an unfamiliar dimension, someone trying to kill her in her own, working for Kotal Kahn, the constant input from her powers.

An assassination attempt was just another weight tipping her towards an unknown breaking point. God only knew what would happen if she snapped one day.

“Maybe,” he allowed, which was as good as saying yes as far as Nix was concerned. “If you can walk.”

“You can give me a ride!” she chirped. “It’ll be great.”

He choked on his response, a vivid image of her naked and sweating and bouncing on his lap flashing through his mind. Friends weren’t supposed to think of each other that way— at least, he didn’t think they did. He had never been so relieved that he was immune to her abilities.

“What?” she asked, drawing her own conclusions from his fumble. “I’m not that heavy!”

“Sugar, I’m pretty sure you’re lighter than Ghost,” he chuckled, trying to recover.

She rolled her eyes and shoved lightly at his shoulder. “Oh my god, is this about how much I eat, again? Because I eat all the time, you’re just never around to see it.”

They chatted for a little while longer, teasing each other and joking around until the maids came in to change her bandages again. Erron took his leave with a hat tilt and wink that made her giggle and blush the brightest she had in a while. As he shut the door behind him, he was surprised by how light his chest felt.

He hadn’t realized speaking with her like they always did would set him so at ease. But that was how it had always been with them, wasn’t it? When they crossed paths at night, she helped soothe the violence and restlessness that gripped him. When they travelled through the market, she distracted him from the wariness and discomfort. Even in passing, she always spared him a genuine smile and a warm greeting that could take the edge off.

Without realizing it, she’d become such a crucial part of his life, of keeping his mind clear and his moods from turning too dark.

He wasn’t sure that it was good thing, but he doubted there was any stopping her at that point.

***

He brought her sweets the next day. She squealed when she saw the bag in his hand, sat up straight and clapped her hands like a little kid. Erron rolled his eyes because he thought it was ridiculously endearing and he didn’t want her to know.

“Yay!” she cheered. “You love me after all.”

It was a damn good thing that she was more focused on treats than him, because there would have been no explaining away how he stumbled. Part of him— the only sane part left to defend his stupid self— reared up to correct her with all the acidity that comment would have warranted several months prior. Instead, he clamped his jaw shut as he saw the joy on her face, stars in her eyes.

“Here you go, you little demon,” he said, handing her the bag, “dig in.”

She laughed as she fished into the bag, apparently just as thrilled with the new term of endearment as her baked goods. “You’re a good man, Erron Black.”

It was like she was trying to make him uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and strived for the same dry humor he always used.

“Alright, don’t get carried away now,” he said, then to distract her further, “Visus sends his well-wishes. He gave me that for free. You’re lucky I didn’t eat it.”

She crooned as she bit into the honey-glazed pastry. “You don’t like sweets,” she dismissed knowingly, “but that was so sweet of Visus. I’ll have to thank him.”

He hummed and sat on the edge of the bed next to her, waiting for her to finish her snack. Ghost loped over and rubbed up against his pants, Erron scratching at his ears absently while he eyed Nix. Her skin looked healthier, but there were still dark circles under her eyes. Nightmares, he figured. That hadn’t taken long, but her body hadn’t had to spend as much time or energy healing as it had when she’d first arrived in Outworld.

He poked at her cheek. “Hurry up. I want to get to the training grounds.”

She perked up, swallowed the bite in her mouth. “You’re going to give me that demonstration?”

“I said I would.”

“You said ‘maybe’.”

He shrugged and tried not to stare as she licked glaze from her fingers.

“Will you carry me there?” she asked, turning her big violet eyes on him.

“I said ‘maybe’.”

“You said you would!”

Of course he ended up carrying her, because “maybe” always meant “of course” when it came to Nix. He kneeled down and she carefully climbed onto his back, abdomen twisted just enough to keep her still-healing wound from pressing against him. Her legs hooked over his hips, his arms supported her thighs.

“Your hat is hitting me in the face,” she said and stole it, seating it on her own head.

“Excuses, excuses,” he scoffed, but didn’t ask for it back.

She circled her arms around his shoulders, fingers curled around the straps over his shoulders. He had been joking that she was lighter than Ghost, but she was certainly no burden either. The long walk to the training yard was hardly even a warm-up for him, even having to occasionally dodge the kitten when he walked directly into Erron’s path.

“He does it just to mess with you,” she observed, grinning. “He likes you.”

“Wish he liked me less,” Erron grumbled.

She snorted. “Then he’d bite you.”

“He already bites me.”

“Not hard!” she pinched Erron’s arm as if to demonstrate. “It’s just a little nibble. Don’t be dramatic.”

They managed to avoid too many outright stares thanks to their respective reputations, but that didn’t stop lingering glances or obnoxious whispers when their backs were turned. Erron couldn’t blame them really—if someone had told him a year ago that he’d be giving a bossy little psychic piggy-back rides, he’d have knocked their teeth in. Still, the attention was a bit much.

If Nix noticed, she didn’t comment and Erron wasn’t going to mention it either.

Their destination was a wide courtyard towards the back of the palace. There were racks of weapons to the sides, a building in one corner that housed armor and guard uniforms. The varying arenas and practice areas were separated by wooden blocks, the ground flat and dusty. A ways out were targets for archery— and Erron’s guns. It wasn’t crowded, handfuls of palace guards lingering or exercising.

“I’ve never been here before,” Nix said, looking around.

“You don’t have a lot of reason to come here,” Erron pointed out, scoping out his options.

There were a few guards who were desperately trying to avoid eye contact, but then he caught sight of Reptile prowling the sidelines. Though they weren’t fond of each other, Erron could always count on him for a decent sparring match—and vice versa. They acknowledged each other across the yard and Erron nodded to an empty ring on the right.

Reptile approached while Erron deposited Nix in the shade of an awning, where she’d have an unobstructed view of the match. Ghost plopped down on the ground next to her, his flank pressed to her thigh. She crossed her legs, let the cub rest his head on her leg while she stroked down his back.

“You alright here?” Erron asked, squatting down in front of her with his forearms resting on his knees.

She nodded and smiled at him. “I can always ask one of the guards if I need something.”

He hummed in agreement and tilted the hat back a little so that he could see her eyes.

“Stay here,” he told her, “don’t go wandering off, and don’t go running in the middle of anything, no matter how bad it looks. Got it?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I got it, _mom_. Jeez.”

He snorted and flicked her lightly in the shoulder. She giggled and swatted at his hand.

“Don’t lose my hat either,” he added.

She rolled her eyes but nodded, then flicked her eyes to Reptile waiting behind him. “Good luck, Erron! I hope you kick ass.”

“Gotta give you a good show, don’t I?” He winked and stood, rolling his shoulders as he walked into the ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing combat and high action is hard, but I'm trying. This won't be the only close-one either of them has.
> 
> Next chapter: the return of Massac, plus! Nix flips the Bitch Switch and Erron thinks it's hot.


	8. Anger Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends have their bumps in the road, but they sort themselves out. Erron makes a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so upon further thought Erron is a little out of character but that's because it's my fanfic and in my fanfic he drinks his Respect Women Juice.
> 
> If you want some reason that's, like, "legit" for why he's not a sexist douche, then we'll say it's because he got his ass handed to him by Cassie Cage, Jacqui Briggs, and Sonya Blade. They hit him in the head so much he got his common sense back. Idk. This is just a self-indulgent fic.

Erron was distantly aware of her cheering for him on occasion, but it seemed far away and unimportant while he was avoiding Reptile’s acidic projectiles. That was how it always was for him in battle; his focus narrowed down to whatever, or whoever, was in front of him. Everything else— the pain, the heat— faded to background noise, insignificant compared to his drive to win.

That survival instinct had always been one of his best qualities.

When they called an end to their sparring match, all the signals his body had been trying to send to his brain came rushing in. Sweat rolled off his body in slick sheets, his throat parched like the desert. There was a chemical burn on one of his arms where he hadn’t dodged one of Reptile’s spitballs fast enough.

The heat was the worst though. It felt like his insides were an oven, a close, sweltering heat that turned his stomach and made him dizzy. There was no breeze and the sun was high in the sky, baking the training yard and all the people therein. Nix hadn’t even been able to do her “AC spell” because Ermac had put a magic-ban on her.

Erron had spent most of his life in climates like Outworld. He knew the beginnings of heatstroke.

“Hey, cowboy, you don’t look so good,” Nix said as he approached.

Nix, on the other hand, looked comfortable. She’d shifted to lean against a pillar where the shade kept her nice and cool, and as usual her clothing was lighter and more-breathable than his. Somewhere along the way she’d pulled her hair up, but it didn’t even seem like she was sweating.

Her concern for him was appreciated on some level, but the discomfort and envy made him a little irritable.

“Let’s get inside,” he replied.

He helped her up, still mindful of her healing injury, but didn’t offer to carry her. From the way she wrinkled her nose at his state, she wouldn’t have wanted a ride from him anyway. Her pace was a little slow, but they got inside soon enough and Erron sighed. The palace’s interior was much cooler than even the shade outside and the nausea began to subside.

He leaned against the wall, ignoring Ghost as the cub nudged up against his hand and arm. Nix watched the two of them with something swimming in her eyes that Erron was too distracted to identify. After a few minutes, she took a step closer.

“Hey, maybe we should go to the kitchen?” she suggested. “Get some water?”

He grimaced. “You don’t need to coddle me, Phoenix.” It came out sharper than he intended.

Part of it was frustration with himself. He knew better than to spar in the heat of the day like that, especially as hard as he’d gone. Reptile was literally cold-blooded; Outworld’s weather was paradise for him. Erron was still human though, and it was stupid of him to forget the limits that came with that.

The other part was his ingrained response to anyone perceiving weakness in him. There was no room for that in his line of work, no grace given just because he needed a minute to recuperate and recover. Nix was his friend, but he hadn’t had those in a long time and old, life-saving habits were hard to break. She wasn’t a danger, but he resented any implication that he couldn’t take care of himself.

She frowned at him, but her tone remained even. “I’m not. Hydration is just a necessity, and neither of us have had water in a bit.”

He swallowed down his aggravation, tried to remind himself that that was just how Nix was. She was a caring and thoughtful person, overly concerned with everyone and everything. She’d adopted a Taigore for fuck’s sake. He should have expected her to have a similar reaction to him if she thought something was wrong.

“Fine,” he huffed, pushing off the wall.

It took conscious effort not to sway, but he managed it with Nix’s gaze boring into him.

“Quit looking at me like that,” he grumbled.

She sighed and made a point of looking far away from him as they began walking down the hall. They were silent for a few moments, and then she slid him a sideways look. Erron stubbornly stared forward.

“Are you going to snap at me again if I offer to use a spell to cool you off?” she asked.

“I didn’t snap at you,” he bit out, which definitely proved her point.

She arched her eyebrows and faced forward again. Erron sighed, the irritation bleeding out of him. If she’d said anything, it probably would have escalated into an argument. But she hadn’t, and Erron felt like an asshole. With anyone else he wouldn’t have cared, but it was Nix and she was his _only_ friend, and the only person whose company he genuinely enjoyed.

The concern was just the way she was; she didn’t mean anything by it and beside that, she was _right._

Before he could figure out what to say, they reached the kitchen. Nix waltzed in ahead of him and made a beeline for the same cook as last time— Kez, she had called him. The man looked up as they approached, eyes flicking to Erron before focusing on Nix.

He grinned, pausing with a knife as long as Nix’s forearm poised over the vegetable he’d just been cutting. He waited for her to hug him before returning to his task, voice fond as they exchanged greetings.

“How are you holding up, Nixie? Got into some trouble, hm?” Kez asked.

She smiled sheepishly, as if she’d been caught out past curfew rather than stabbed. “Just a little,” she admitted. “How are you, Kez?”

“Busy as usual,” he replied, “we can’t all lounge around reading and— no kitties in the kitchen, Nixie. How many times do I have to tell you?”

He gestured at Ghost with the knife, shooting her a half-hearted glare.

“Aw, I just forgot! I remembered last time,” she pouted, but shooed Ghost out of the kitchen anyway.

“I suppose you forgot because your hungry?” Kez guessed and she beamed.

“Always!”

Kez nodded and gestured at one of the other cooks, who took one look at Nix and darted off. Erron arched an eyebrow; clearly Nix was in the kitchen more often than he’d realized.

“Kez, where are the cups? Erron and I are thirsty.”

The cook snorted and gestured over his shoulder while he muttered something under his breath. Erron thought it was something like “no kidding” but he couldn’t have been sure. Nix, oblivious, wandered off to get them each a cup of water. As soon as she returned, Erron chugged half of his in one go, then paused to take a deep breath and sigh with relief.

“Anything I can get for your cowboy stripper?” Kez asked.

Erron might have taken offense had the mortified expression on Nix’s face not been worth it. Her eyes somehow got even bigger than usual, a horrified noise escaping from her parted lips. The brightest blush he’d ever seen blazed a trail across her cheeks and nose, to the tips of her ears. She sputtered for a moment, before finally managing to speak at an octave higher than usual.

“H-he’s not _mine_ , Keziah!” she choked out. “And he’s not a stripper… I think…”

They both shot him questioning glances, but Erron decided he could do with a little mystery. “I’m good with water.”

Kez laughed as Nix stared, aghast. The cook from before returned, indifferent to whatever was happening as she handed Nix a plate of snacks. Her usual fare— fruits and cheeses and bread.

“Go on then, Nixie. Back to your books and strippers,” Kez teased, nudging her along.

She complied, but not without another flush. “He’s not my stripper!”

Erron chuckled and followed her out with a nod to the cook. In the hall, she huffed and nibbled dejectedly on a piece of fruit. Ghost loped up to her and rubbed up against her leg, apparently in solidarity. She hummed and offered him a piece of cheese that he took with a delicacy that should have been impossible for his species.

It reminded him of just how strange and special she was. Only she could fall into a strange dimension and end up in the emperor’s inner circle. Only she could tame a Taigore to the point of _literally eating out of her hand_. Only she could charm half the surly merchants in Outworld’s market. Only she could make friends with Erron Black.

“Listen…” he started, and she glanced over at him. His words died.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he managed. “I… I’m sorry for being a dick earlier.”

Her shoulders relaxed and her smile returned to its usual brightness. “I didn’t mean to hover.”

He grimaced. “You weren’t, really. I’m just not used to… the concern.”

She hummed and leaned her shoulder into his. “At least you didn’t yell at me.” Before he could ask about that, she tugged on his arm. “Let’s go sit. My side is starting to ache.”

***

As he’d predicted, Nix was happy about her first assignment. More than happy. She was fucking ecstatic. Eyes all lit up even without having to activate her abilities, a persistent little smile on her face.

Kotal Kahn had allowed her an extra day to recuperate from her injury and then summoned her to the throne room for her first mission. They’d discussed some of the particulars, mostly reassurances that she was gathering information and scouting out the truth. No violence necessary, not even confrontations if she wanted.

“Erron will accompany you purely as a precaution,” Kotal Kahn added. “When you return, arrangements for your permanent bodyguard will be made.”

And that just seemed to be the icing on the cake for Nix.

The entire trip to the Badlands was spent with her staring at their surroundings, asking questions as fast as she thought of them. Erron answered what he could, used to her curiosity and too amused to tell her to settle down. All in all, it was an entertaining trip for him.

When they arrived, she managed to school her features into something professional and businesslike while the servants lead them through the mountain. Nix didn’t try to make conversation with them— or, more accurately, she _couldn’t_ make conversation with them. They were giving her a wide berth because they’d had to bring Ghost with them, lest the cub try to eat someone while neither Nix nor Erron were there to manage him.

“What do you think so far?” he asked when they’d been left alone in the same room as last time.

Nix folded herself onto one of the armchairs and tilted her head in thought. “I think this place doesn’t feel… right.”

Erron arched his eyebrows. “In a dangerous way?”

“No…” she frowned. “Just, um… kinda… sleazy? Does that makes sense?”

Erron nodded. He was no psychic, but he knew exactly what she meant.

Massac joined them only a couple minutes later, looking just as greasy and self-impressed as last time. Nix stood to greet him, all good manners and polite platitudes. Erron didn’t miss the way Massac’s eyes trailed over her from head to toe, catching on the more _risqué_ sections of her usual clothing. Like the way her skirts parted up to her hips, or the way her shirt draped low over her chest.

Erron had gotten good at not staring, used to the way she dressed and usually distracted by everything else about Nix. The palace staff and the merchants weren’t stupid enough to ogle. This guy, apparently, was.

“Well, hello,” he purred as he took Nix’s hand in greeting. “I didn’t know Kotal Kahn was sending me a gift.”

Erron went rigid, but he was more interested in Nix’s reaction. For a girl without a poker face, the shift was subtle. If he hadn’t spent so much time around her, Erron wouldn’t have noticed. Even then, it was only because he was so used to her various levels of bubbly that he realized just how _pissed_ she suddenly was.

The incident at the bar had been handled with indifference, at most a vague annoyance that needed to be dealt with. The attack in the market had been a panic, an emergency situation. There hadn’t been anger in either of those circumstances— at least not in Nix.

“If you mean the Taigore, I’m afraid he’s my pet,” she replied, forcing a clueless voice, “and if you mean Erron, I don’t think he appreciates being called a ‘gift’.”

Erron made a point of glaring and crossing his arms as Massac spared him an awkward glance. He wasn’t sure where Nix was going with the oblivious act, but he owed it to her to follow along. Treating her like a fragile thing that needed a knight in shining armor wasn’t doing her any favors, and besides, Erron wasn’t a knight in shining armor.

He was around for physical protection, so she could fake obliviousness all she wanted, and he would make sure the creep kept his hands to himself.

“In any case,” she continued, “the emperor sent me here with orders, and I would appreciate it if you could help me complete them.”

Massac grinned and openly leered at her, apparently unconcerned. “Oh, I’d be happy to _help_ you any way you’d like,” he purred.

Erron didn’t miss the way her lips twitched with thinly veiled disgust and rage. Massac did because he was too busy staring at her boobs again. Even Ghost was starting to get restless, prowling around behind her legs with his ears pinned back.

“Great,” Nix chirped, voice betraying nothing. “You can escort me to the treasury, then. Oh, and call all the other officials in the Badlands here.”

There was a beat of stunned silence as Massac’s brain caught up with her words. Too much blood going south, Erron figured. In that moment where Massac was scrambling for a response, she stepped around him, already heading for the door. Erron and Ghost followed, flanking her.

“And what could _you_ possibly find useful in the treasury?” he asked. “I’m sure Kotal Kahn didn’t give you anything difficult enough that you’d have to walk all the way there.”

Erron could see Nix biting her tongue as she froze. Her eyes darted up to him. A mixed looked of _can you believe this,_ and _I’m going to fucking lose it_. He arched an eyebrow in return. She half-turned towards Massac again, and her smile looked like it was about to crack into a snarl.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand your meaning,” she said, voice silky.

“I’m sure that whatever little errand the emperor has you on can be completed without the treasury,” Massac continued. Erron wondered if the guy had been born stupid. “We wouldn’t want you to get too tired out, now would we? It’s a bit of a walk.”

Nix hummed. Her shoulders were so stiff and tight, Erron thought she might actually break. Why was she putting up with that bullshit? He understood she didn’t want to kill anyone, but there were plenty of steps between that and ignoring Massac’s behavior.

“While your… concern is appreciated, the emperor expects me to be finished with this in a timely manner. I can find the treasury myself; I’m sure you can gather the other officials in the Badlands without supervision.”

She walked out before Massac could open his mouth again, Erron right beside her. In the hall she let out a deep breath, and the light fixtures along the walls flickered and flared. Erron glanced at her as she inhaled slowly and forced herself to relax. The lights settled, but she still looked pissed.

“Let’s go,” she ground out, eyes blazing as she started walking.

Was this how she’d felt when he’d been pissed about the heatstroke thing? Except, of course, she actually had a reason to be pissed. He didn’t want to leave her fuming like she was, but he also didn’t want to make the situation worse— or incur her wrath.

“At the risk of you kicking my ass,” he began slowly. Her eyes slid to him without turning her head, but she wasn’t actually glaring. “Why are you letting him talk to you like that?”

She sighed. “I can’t just curse him out and threaten him. I need him to…” she trailed off as she saw the look on what was visible of his face. “What?”

“Who the fuck said you couldn’t do any of that?” he asked.

Her brows furrowed. “Well, I mean… he’s…” she shrugged. “I just can’t?”

“Like hell you can’t,” he scoffed. “Darlin,’ you _do_ know you outrank him, right?”

She jerked to a stop and spun to face him fully. “I do?”

“Better than that, sunshine, he’s basically a traitor. A dead man walking. You’re in the Kahn’s inner circle,” he explained. “Even if he wasn’t a criminal, you’d have more authority.”

Her eyes got very big and she grabbed his arm. “ _I do?!”_

He chuckled and patted her hand before she could start shaking him. “ _Yes_ , Nix. That’s why I don’t understand why you’re letting him talk to you like that.”

She huffed and shook her head, a slightly crazy smile splitting her face. “Well, not anymore I’m not.”

Was it bad that he thought the dark glint in her eyes was kind of hot? It wasn’t that he didn’t think she was great as her usual sweet, happy self. In fact, he thought she was damn fine all the time, but that dangerous look on her face. That was _really_ doing something for him,

“C’mon, Erron,” she said, tugging him along with the grip she still had on his arm. “We’ve got a little bitch to set straight.”

***

The treasury was a large, opulent room dominated by a polished rectangular table. There were shelves along the walls— records, one of the secretaries explained. There was an antechamber towards the back, where the actual employees worked at desks. It was at the back of that room where the vault was also located.

In total, there were about eight officials (including Massac) that joined them in the main chamber.

Nix stood at the head of the table as they awkwardly took seats around it, glancing at each other and at her. Somehow (Erron wasn’t sure how) she had transformed into something intimidating through the power of her fury alone. Her expression was perfectly serene, but maybe that was the problem. Her usual happy-go-lucky smile had been replaced by something calculating.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” she began. “I’m sure you’re all busy with administrative duties, but don’t worry. This will be very quick.”

Massac, whose stupidity was breaking records with every syllable, piped up. “And just what is ‘this’?”

The corners of her mouth curved. “Kotal Kahn sent me here to determine which of you have been complicit in helping Massac embezzle money.”

There was a beat of dead silence. Massac’s face had gone pale, half the table swiveling their heads to stare at him. One of few who wasn’t looking at him arched an eyebrow and smirked at Nix.

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” he asked, condescension dripping from every word.

Nix was cool as ice. “I knew as soon as I finished my last sentence,” she replied, smiling.

Even Erron felt a chill at that. He knew she was that powerful, of course. Had watched her develop that particular skill for weeks on their trips to the market. Parsing out the innocent from the guilty was like child’s play for her in a room with only eight people to read. Still, to know that it had happened so fast, that she’d figured them all out by the time they realized why they were there in the first place…

She was right; it had been very quick.

She turned to Erron and gestured at the stricken officials. “Do you want to know which ones?”

He jerked his head in a nod, hand settled on his gun. She pointed each one out in turn, all of them men who wouldn’t even try to put up a fight. They were already resigned to their fates, slumped shoulders and bowed heads. The others around the table were murmuring to themselves, exchanging frightened glances and eyeing Nix.

Massac was the only one who hadn’t realized the reality of the situation.

“You’re a lying whore,” he spit. “Why should anyone believe what comes out of your mouth?”

Nix’s eyes flashed and stormed around the table, an electric energy crackling around her that almost seemed visible. Massac, apparently not expecting this response and (rightfully) frightened, stumbled back as she stomped into his personal space. He fell back into his chair, staring at her with wide eyes. She curled one small hand in the front of his shirt and jerked, hard.

“You should watch what you say to a psychic.” She wasn’t yelling, but her voice was loud and hard. “You’re a pathetic little man, barely better than a common thief, but you are a _well_ of shame and insecurity that I can rip apart.”

Massac was pale again, shrinking back from her as she stared him down for another pointed second. Then she released his clothing and straightened, tucking her hair behind her ear as she turned back to Erron.

“Are we ready to head back?” she asked, voice airy.

They’d known each other for months, but she still surprising him all the time. He always thought he’d figured out how she’d react to things, to people. Instead, she defied his every expectation. How many more times was he going to stand back, slack-jawed and dumbfounded by her words and her action, all because he’d underestimated her again?

Erron had been telling himself for weeks (months, really) that she wasn’t his type because he liked badass women. He liked them hard and gritty. Liked when they could kick his ass and kiss him stupid. Nix was all of that wrapped up in a sunshine package, a steel core hidden behind warm smiles and bubbly laughter and lavender fucking hair.

Nix _was_ a badass. Just a different kind.

“Yes, ma’am,” he told her.


	9. Promotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix gets a promotion and Erron makes a promise.

“But Erron,” Nix whined, drawing his name out on the last vowel, “what if he’s _mean_?”

He rolled his eyes, pretended to ignore her as she hugged his arm and fretted against his shoulder. Halfway back to the palace, she’d remembered that she’d be getting her official bodyguard when they arrived and had spontaneously developed a case of social anxiety. As if she wasn’t the friendliest person in Outworld.

Their prisoners were staring, but Nix had a habit of being oblivious to everyone else when she was harassing Erron.

“ _I’m_ mean, sunshine,” he pointed out.

“Not to me,” she insisted. “What if he doesn’t like Ghost? What if he doesn’t want to go to the market with me? What if I annoy him with all my questions?”

He threw up the arm she wasn’t holding hostage. Okay, so her questions weren’t _that_ annoying, but he’d had to get accustomed to them. Sure, the market trips became pretty pleasant once she started using her spells to keep him cool. And, yes, he’d warmed up to Ghost, but that had been an acquired taste.

“That sounds like me, and you get along with me just fine,” he chuckled.

She groaned and shook his arm a little. “I’m serious, Erron! What if he thinks I’m weird?”

He extricated his arm to pat her head and when she just pouted at him, he wrapped it around her shoulders. There was genuine worry on her face, though, so he figured he should try to make her feel better.

“You _are_ weird,” he said, “but that’s how all of Outworld is. Look, the boss is going to leave most of the decision-making on this to me, so I’ll find you someone nice. Sound good, sugar?”

She lit up at that, eyes bright with hope and gratitude. “Really?!”

He shrugged a little. “Wasn’t like I was going to pair you up with an asshole like me, anyway.”

She laughed and nudged his side gently. “Thank you,” she all but sang.

He snorted and stretched his arm along the back of the cushion behind her. Not hugging her anymore, or even really touching her, but still much closer than they usually were. It was one less barrier between them, letting down his guard so she could have that space right by his ribs. He only became aware that he did it when her own arm pressed there.

Their prisoners were still staring. Most of them were outright gawking, mouths agape and eyes bulging as they glanced between them.

Erron scowled. “Eyes to yourselves,” he snapped.

Almost all of them averted their gazes accordingly. _Almost_ all of them. Massac, dumb as he was, seemed to have already forgotten that he should have a healthy fear of Nix. His anger had overridden his survival instincts so much, in fact, that he forgot to be afraid of Erron too.

“Your cock must be fucking magic to collar a bitch like that,” he scoffed.

Erron’s gun was aimed at him so fast that the idiot would have been dead before he’d even realized what was happening. Would have, being key. Because Nix had processed in the same time Erron had, except instead of reacting to Massac, she’d anticipated Erron. Her fingers had hooked in his vest, which had been just enough to stop him from pulling the trigger.

“Erron, wait,” she gasped.

“Phoenix…” he replied, half-warning and half-question. He really, _really_ wanted to kill this guy.

“I don’t want to see his brain splattered all over the place,” she said quickly.

“Then close your eyes.”

Her hands were shaking. He didn’t understand why she was protecting that creep’s life. She couldn’t be _that_ attached to her morals. Not when Massac had said all those things about her— and had probably thought worse while he’d been at it. Barely an hour earlier, she’d looked ready to kill him herself. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen him kill someone.

“Am I supposed to walk into the palace without opening my eyes?” she asked.

“It’s not like I haven’t led you blind before,” he pointed out. Why were they even having this discussion? She hadn’t reacted like this in the market. One twitch of his finger and Massac would be dead. Nix hated him too; Erron would have to apologize, but Nix would forgive him. Eventually…

“Erron, please,” she murmured quietly. “I’m an empath, remember? I don’t want to feel…”

He worked his jaw for a second. Alright, so she might not forgive him for that, but there was no way in hell Massac was getting away with that disrespect so easily. Erron narrowed his eyes, took careful aim, and fired.

Massac screamed and fell out of his seat. Nix yelped and ducked close to Erron’s chest, eyes squeezed shut. He dropped his arm around her again while he holstered his gun with the other, offering what comfort he could. Her ears were probably ringing, so no words of comfort would reach her just yet. Not that he’d know what to say, anyway. His hand rubbed gently along her back and arm.

“Dear fucking elder gods,” one of the other prisoners choked out, pale and sweaty. “You’re a maniac.”

Erron levelled him with a flat look. “You say something?”

The man’s mouth snapped shut. Nix stopped clutching at his vest and sat up slowly, blinking at him with owlish shock. He nodded towards Massac, still moaning and clutching at his shot ear.

“That alright with you, angel?” he asked without a hint of mocking.

Her eyes slid to Massac, at the blood leaking from the chunk taken out of the cartilage. Most of his ear was still there, but it sure had to hurt like a bitch. Most importantly, he was still alive.

Ghost had stood during the commotion and approached Massac, sniffed at him and then curled his lip. Returned to Nix’s other side and curled up against her legs with his head on her thigh.

“Y-yeah,” she said, “it just startled me.”

He squeezed her a little, thumb stroking soothing circles over her arm. A silent apology. She might not have been able to read his mind, but she understood him just fine. Her breath left her in a slow, controlled stream of air before she settled in against him again, effectively snuggled into his side.

Erron wasn’t about to move her. He’d already stressed her out enough for one day.        

***

Kotal Kahn couldn’t have been more pleased with her success. Nix had passed her “test” with flying colors— the first of many, Erron assumed, but she was off to a promising start. Even Ermac expressed approval when Erron finished reporting what had happened. The prisoners were taken to the dungeon to be dealt with later, while Nix and Kotal Kahn discussed the terms of her new, permanent employment.

She would start getting a proper salary immediately, and better accommodations within the next several months. The exact parameters of her job were more fluid than Erron’s. A living lie detector (and manipulator) had a thousand uses in Kotal Kahn’s palace, after all.

“Tell me, Phoenix,” the emperor said, “where do you think your talents would be best suited?”

She made a wide gesture with her hands. “My abilities are adaptable to the task. I can do interrogations and investigations like I did today. I can accompany you on political meetings...”

Kotal Kahn seemed amused by her answer and leaned forwards. “Yes, but where do you think you will be most effective?”

Her brow furrowed in a mix of confusion and contemplation. Erron wasn’t sure what their boss was trying to get at, either. Hiring Erron had been a simple matter of expectations and money. Nix was in a different position though; she had a different skillset and a set of morals to go with them.

“I can be a liaison,” she said finally, “between you and your people. I am already friendly with most merchants in the market; I’ve made an impression on the officials in the Badlands. You can rely on me to help the government and its citizens work in harmony.”

Erron arched his eyebrows in surprise. That was a big job she was volunteering for— one that Outworld had never had before. Historically, Outworld had been ruled by dictators and ruthless authoritarians, emperors who cared more about power and conquest than the people they ruled over.

Kotal Kahn was a different sort of ruler though, from what Erron could tell. He had an iron fist and a rigid regime, but it wasn’t without reason. He planned for Outworld to flourish, for his people to recover from back-to-back wars and centuries of Mortal Kombat tournaments. He wanted a united and prosperous kingdom, and that was a tall order for a warlord to carry out alone.

“An interesting proposition,” Kotal Kahn replied, sitting back in his throne again, “and how can I trust you with such an important task? My previous minister betrayed me.”

She frowned. “I don’t think we’d be having this conversation if you didn’t think I could be trusted. I’m a psychic and that puts me in a precarious situation. On one hand, I’m useful for reading and even controlling people, but that also makes me dangerous.”

Had the mask not prevented it, Erron’s jaw would have been on the floor. He was almost certain the blood had drained from his face. He’d said it before, but she was _brave fucking woman._ Balls of steel. Where the hell was all this coming from? She’d never breathed a word of this before.

“I’ve been listening, emperor. I’ve been paying attention. If you’d thought I was more of a liability than an asset, I think I’d be dead already,” she continued. “I owe you and this realm a lot, and more importantly, I _like_ this place. I want it to prosper. That’s more than enough for my loyalty.”

There was a beat of silence and then Kotal Kahn chuckled. “I believe that, and you are correct. Your survival has always been a balancing act.”

Erron saw her swallow, but her expression was brave as she nodded.

“Very well, you will be my liaison,” the emperor declared. “Your first task will be to find me a suitable replacement for Massac in the Badlands.”

Surprised, but compliant, she nodded again. “When do I go?”

Kotal Kahn waved a hand. “Tomorrow, once Erron has put together a guard for you. For now, you have earned a night of rest.”

Accepting her orders, she scooped up Ghost, who had been waiting patiently by her feet through the whole conversation. Cradling the kitten in her arms, she shot Erron a quick look. While she’d been dismissed, he had not. He nodded for her to go on without him and she spared him a quick smile before leaving.

When he was sure she was out of hearing— and psychic— range, he turned to Kotal Kahn.

“Didn’t expect that,” Erron drawled, casual.

The emperor leaned back in his throne, looking satisfied with himself as he propped his chin on his knuckles. “The people of Outworld need a merciful figure. I have their obedience through fear, and now I need their loyalty from compassion.”

Erron frowned as pieces began falling into place.

Nix always wore white. She had mentioned that it wasn’t a personal choice; she just wore whatever she was given. Erron had assumed it was for practical purposes, that the maids had been responsible for her wardrobe. The accenting on her clothes, including the jewelry she’d bought for herself, was gold. Even out of her skirts and dresses, she wasn’t ever armored or armed. He’d always joked that she looked like a fairy or something, but looking at it with that lens… she would look more like a priestess or an angel.

Her trips in the market had exposed her to the public. She was well known as a member of Kotal Kahn’s retinue in the capital city, always accompanied by Erron and/or Ermac. However, where the citizens knew to avoid her escort’s attention, to duck their heads and keep out of trouble, Nix was always an approachable figure. They’d seen her do as much magic as any of the emperor’s other enforcers, but they still approached her with equal parts friendliness and respect.

Even the fact that she was a woman affected the light she was cast in. Outworld had been ruled by a patriarch for millennia, and all of Kotal Kahn’s retinue was male except for her. Kitana, the previous heir to the throne, had been killed and subsequently converted into a Revenant. Mileena’s claim had been wobbly at best, and she’d waged a civil war that had ravaged the land. Both of those women had been powerful warriors, but that wasn’t Nix.

Had Kotal Kahn seriously been aiming for this from the beginning?!

“She’s gonna become a big target,” Erron concluded. “The more involved she gets in Outworld’s government, the more Mileena sympathizers and similar groups will gun for her.”

Kotal Kahn smirked and waved a hand at him again. “Then it will be up to you to ensure she is not vulnerable.”

And what a fucking task _that_ would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how many more chapters there will be to this story? I know they're not together yet, but that'll change pretty soon. Probably within the next two chapters even at which point we'll be at the smut times!


	10. Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how they say absence makes the heart grow fonder? If Erron gets any fonder he might actually die. Nix leaves and then she comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to write a hardened mercenary who is also hopelessly in love. I'm trying my best, okay, but ultimately he's going to be out of character.

Erron didn’t go to her immediately. Not that he didn’t want to see her, but he _was_ being paid for a job. Besides, Nix needed body guards and that wasn’t something he wanted to procrastinate. He did a line-up of the palace guards who weren’t totally incompetent, tried to figure out which ones weren’t complete assholes. Problem was, he didn’t know half their names— let alone if they were “nice.”

Eventually, he chose a couple guys who wouldn’t end up getting Nix killed. In the simplest terms, he’d prefer her unhappy over dead. He’d give them a proper debrief in the morning, before she had to leave for her assignment. Somewhere along the way he’d tell them not to be assholes and if they knew what was good for them, they’d listen.

When that was sorted out, he went looking for Nix. She wasn’t in her room or her usual spots in any of the courtyards, but one of the posted guards finally pointed him towards the palace roof. By then, the sun had almost set. Erron found her on the slanted roof over her own room, with her legs crossed and Ghost curled up in her lap. Her fingers were tracing over the scar on the bridge of her nose, the one she’d gotten on her way into Outworld.

Her hand dropped to her side as he approached and gave him a watery smile. Her eyes were big and glassy; she must have been crying. He felt a little guilty for being relieved that she wasn’t anymore. Comforting people wasn’t his forte. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tried— if he ever had. What the hell was he supposed to do if she started again?

“Hey there, sunshine,” he said as he dropped down next her. He hesitated, then asked, “You alright?”

“It’s just been an intense day,” she replied and sniffled a little. “I needed to get it out.”

He didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say. Nothing he could say that wouldn’t make him sound like an idiot or an asshole or both. It didn’t seem like she was looking for him to respond anyway. After a minute or two, she settled her head on his shoulder.

“Do you ever…” she hesitated. He waited. “Do you think I can survive here? In Outworld?”

He blinked. Was _that_ what she’d been crying about?

“Yeah,” he answered without hesitation. “That’s what you’ve _been_ doing, sweetheart.”

She was very quiet and very still next to him. Erron wasn’t sure how to interpret that. Was she waiting for him to say something else? Did she not believe him? Was she just processing what he said? Thinking of a response? Fuck, this was hard. He considered giving up, but he hadn’t exactly tried either.

He slid his hand over carefully, trying not to jostle her head too much. He touched the back of her hand, the callouses on his palms like sandpaper against her soft skin. His fingers curled around her palm and felt her own fold and squeeze gently.

“Look…” he started and paused. He had no clue what he was going to say, but he was going to talk anyway. “Nix, you’re a hell of a trooper. Knew that the minute I met you. I never wondered how well you’d do here.”

Her fingers twitched around his. She sniffled and he got the horrifying sense that she was tearing up again. Maybe if he didn’t look…

“I’m really glad I met you,” she murmured finally. Her voice was quiet, but steady. She didn’t seem in danger of outright sobbing any time soon.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he replied, awkward.

She laughed a little, used her free hand to wipe at her eyes. He ran his thumb across the back of her knuckles, smooth and unscarred. They’d spent enough time together that he could tell that she was settling again, the tension bleeding out of her.

Apparently, honesty worked. No fluffy words of comfort necessary.

“C’mon, angel,” he said, “let’s get a drink or five.”

She picked her head up and blinked at him. Erron tried not to miss the weight or warmth of her head on his shoulder as he looked back at her.

“A drink?” she asked, curious and intrigued.

“We gotta celebrate your promotion, after all,” he answered.

One of those brilliant smiles stretched across her lips and her teeth flashed in the last few rays of sunlight.

“Okay!”

***

“Try to stay out of her way. Nix knows what she’s doing whether she acts like it or not,” Erron explained.

He was almost done debriefing Nix’s new guards, which would only leave _her_ instructions about how to behave around bodyguard before she departed for the Badlands. He wasn’t actually worried about her complicating their jobs, but she’d still been nervous that morning, so Erron had promised to be there for introductions.

“If she tells you something, you’d should listen. She sees and hears more than you,” he continued. “She’s pretty easy, so just tell her if you need her to go somewhere or do something. Don’t go grabbing at her.”

The guards were nodding along, solemn faced and serious. Neither of them had ever been bodyguards before, so Erron had imparted as much general wisdom as he could before he’d gotten to the specifics of Nix’s company. Better to try to get them all on the same page from the start so there weren’t any mistakes that would cost her life.

“Last thing,” he said, “don’t yell at her.”

The two guards exchanged looks, but nodded that they understood. Erron sighed. He’d done all he could to prepare them, but nothing compared to the real thing, he knew. He gestured for them to follow through the halls, all the way to the dining table where Nix was finishing her breakfast.

“Morning, sunshine,” he called.

She glanced up at him and smiled widely. “Good morning, Erron!”

Ghost jumped from her lap and loped up to Erron in greeting, rubbing up against his leg before slinking past to investigate the guards. They were smart enough not to run, but they went rigid with unease. One of them looked like he was already sweating.

“He won’t hurt you,” Erron assured them. “Just don’t bother him.”

Nix stood from her seat but didn’t approach right away. She was staring at the new guards, head tilted and eyes narrowed just slightly. Info gathering, probably.

“Transportation is almost ready for you, but I thought you’d like to get introductions out of the way,” Erron explained.

She blinked, eyes focusing again as she nodded but didn’t move. Weird case of nerves, but he wasn’t surprised either. She’d been reticent about a bodyguard since the day before. He crossed over to her, guided her with a gentle hand at the small of her back. There was little resistance, and she smiled at the two guard when she was closer.

“Phoenix, this is Tenac and Rudas. They’ll be your bodyguards from here on out.”

The two nodded at her in turn. Tenac was older, with a longer face made longer by his shaved head and a tattoo across one shoulder. Rudas was younger but bulkier, the sides of his head also shaved, but the top kept in a complicated braid.

“Nice to meet you,” Nix said.

They barely responded, used to being on silent patrols and guard duty. She glanced up at Erron, uncertainty written across her face. He slid his arm up to her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

“They’re good guards, Nix. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

She hummed. “Well, you picked them. I trust you.”

And that was just a sweet little punch to the gut, wasn’t it? Erron scrambled for what he’d been about to say, struggling to keep his expression even. She’d gotten good at reading him even with half his face covered; he didn’t want her to realize that she’d blindsided him. Again.

“On that note, listen to them when they tell you to do something. Don’t try to help unless you’re in a safe place and it doesn’t put you in danger,” he said. He shouldn’t have had to considering she was a grown woman, but he was paranoid and she was altruistic. “And let them work. They’re not me, so try not to distract them in public spaces, okay?”

She gasped theatrically and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Who, me? Distracting? What could you possibly mean by that?”

Erron snorted and poked her in one soft cheek, making her giggle. “Yeah, yeah, smartass. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

She stuck her tongue out. “Yes, I suppose we should go as soon as possible.”

The guards were still at attention, waiting for her. Ghost had lost interest and returned to Erron and Nix, rubbing up against his leg again before standing at his mistress’s side. She took one small step closer and hugged Erron quickly, her arms looped around his neck. He was so surprised that only one arm responded, barely circling the curve of her waist before she pulled away and smiled.

“I’ll be back soon. Stay out of trouble, cowboy.”

He forced himself to act casual. “No promises, darlin’.”

***

Nix’s errand was expected to last three days, four at the most. At the end of a week, a letter came explaining that there were some bureaucratic matters she had to address. Discord among the officials about the new head administrator and public relations to repair with Badlands’ villages. She wasn’t sure when she’d be back, but she promised she was sorting it out as quickly and thoroughly as she could.

One week turned into two. Fifteen days. Sixteen. Not that Erron was counting— except that he was.

Every corner of the palace had an emptiness to it, a hole where a bright smile or a flash of lavender should have been. Erron found himself expecting to see her in her usual spots while going about his duties, jarred every time he didn’t. The atmosphere in the palace felt dead and dreary without the warmth and hum of her energy filling it.

At first, he pretended he wasn’t bothered by her absence. He told himself the gnawing ache in his chest was restlessness, and then pretended that it didn’t grow every time he opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment when she wasn’t there to laugh at it.

His days were long and aggravatingly slow. Most of Kotal Kahn’s business was at the palace, organizing and planning. Sorting out things that would be Nix’s responsibility when she returned, to put her new position into use. There was nothing for Erron to do but stand around and _not_ think about her, dammit.

The nights were worse. His nightmares kicked up, more intense than usual. Not that he remembered them, but he kept waking in a cold sweat, hands shaking like he was holding a gun for the first time. There was no Nix to spend a silent hour with. No gentle weight leaning against his side while they gazed at the city from the rooftops and waited for exhaustion to override the memories.

It culminated into a foul mood that was setting a ten-day streak. The guards got the worst of his wrath, because he was actually paid to yell at them and kick their asses when they slacked off. The news travelled though, and pretty soon most of the palace was avoiding him as much as they could.

Eventually, he had to admit it to himself. Erron missed her. He fucking missed her like a lovesick puppy, and it was pathetic but that didn’t stop it from happening. It was day twelve when he finally acknowledged that fact, even if just to himself.

But once he’d figured it out— okay, not “figured it out,” he got his head out of his ass— that meant he could try to fix it. On day thirteen, he did something he hadn’t done since that first time they went to the market together. He went out to get laid.

Erron almost never brought one-night-stands back to the palace. Usually, he went to their place and then left almost as soon as they were done. Or, if they were really impatient, in the back allies and behind the bars of wherever he’d met his company for the night. Erron wasn’t above paying for it, but that was rare since he’d signed up with Kotal Kahn. There were plenty of women more than willing to jump into bed (or against a wall) with someone in the emperor’s retinue.

He couldn’t make himself go to the bar that he mentally labelled as his and Nix’s, even though they’d only gone twice. There were plenty of beautiful women that frequented it, and he’d even see a few of them shoot him and/or Nix interested glances. But he couldn’t do it. It just didn’t feel… right. To be somewhere that reminded him so strongly of her when he was making a concentrated effort not to think of her.

Erron slipped into one of his (old) haunts and seamlessly fell into the rhythm of old habits. He got through two drinks before a woman approached him. Her hair was dark, eyes light. Not a scrap of purple anywhere on her. Even better, she was just stopping in the capital on business before going to a final destination— he couldn’t hear the name of the town over the din of other patrons. She was renting a room above the bar, he followed her up the stairs without hesitation.

His mind was blissfully blank for a handful of hours.

The walk back to the palace put him on the same road he walked with Nix almost every day and the memory of the first time they’d drank together hit him like a haymaker. That smile as she’d thanked him and how it had lit up the dead of night. He’d started calling her “sunshine” right after that.

The afterglow fled him in rush so sudden that it left him dizzy and cold. Fuck, he missed Nix. There was no getting around it. Not to mention, he felt… wrong. Didn’t like the scent of another woman’s perfume on him. Nix didn’t wear perfumes because they had the potential to make her headaches worse. She always smelled clean and kind of flowery, but subtle. He had to be close to smell it, but he always wanted to be close.

 _Mistake._ His mind whispered the word, but he tried to drown it out with logic. Nix wasn’t his; he wasn’t Nix’s. They were friends, intimate friends, but they weren’t together. He shouldn’t feel _guilty_ because he had sex. The first time he’d felt guilt for something in years, and it was over _this_. If she had been there, she probably would have encouraged him to have sex.

If she’d been there, he wouldn’t have gone out looking for a distraction from her. He would have rather…

Oh fuck, he would have rather had sex with her.

***

Erron went out again the next night.

Nix had sent a message that she’d put things in order, but it was best to stay a little longer to be sure the changes were settling. She’d given no estimates of time; her stay in the Badlands was indefinite. If things went well, she’d be back soon, but there was no accounting for unexpected changes. Despite the good sex and the late night, he still hadn’t gotten much sleep. The few hours he’d gotten had been restless and troubled.

He got as far as talking to a woman before he realized it wasn’t working for him. Sure, his body was in it, but his head wasn’t. No matter what he did, no matter where he looked or what he imagined, he could only see how the woman he spoke to wasn’t Nix. All the ways she wasn’t anything like his favorite psychic just seemed wrong, made him wish for her instead.

He left without an explanation and got off in his room, into his hand, thinking of Nix and the way her body had felt against his when she’d hugged him. When the guilt came that time, it was because he’d been using her as masturbation material.

He fell asleep that night with the thought that he really needed to sort himself the fuck out.

***

On day eighteen, they received word that Nix was returning. Matters were settled, the new local administration in the Badlands was running smoothly and loyal to the emperor. She’d be arriving that day and Erron awaited her with anticipation that bled into impatience. Even Kotal Kahn, usually insulated from matters that didn’t pertain to the kingdom, noticed.

“Phoenix will be arriving soon,” he said when she was due any moment, “why don’t you meet her and escort her inside?”

Erron didn’t need to be told twice. He was out the door in a heartbeat, all but ran to where she’d land. The five-minute wait felt like a small eternity, but then the transport was there. Nix was the first person he saw, the only person he saw. She spotted him right away, bolted down the ramp and crashed into him. He swept her up before he could think about it, his arms tight around her waist and her feet off the ground as she buried her face in his neck.

“God, I missed you,” she sobbed. The earnestness in her voice winded him. “It got really bad for a minute there.”

He pried his eyes open to see that only one of her bodyguards remained, standing back from them awkwardly. That made Erron put her down, hold her at arm’s length to get a look at her. She seemed unscathed, but her hair was a little shorter than it had been when she’d left. Even without injuries, she looked like hell.

Her skin was washed out. There were dark circles under eyes; eyes that were glassy and duller than usual despite the joy shining through. His hands slid up from her waist a couple inches, double-checking himself and yes, she felt thinner. He didn’t even care that she was crying, big tears that streaked down her cheeks and dripped off her chin.

“What happened?” he asked.

Nix shook her head as she wiped at her eyes. “You’ll hear it when I debrief the emperor. I’m just glad to be back.”

She nestled close to him again, her breathing deep and uneven as her fingers curled in the fabric around his shoulders. Erron forgot for a second that he didn’t know how to comfort people. He was just so damn happy to feel her pressing against him again. Besides, she wasn’t asking for more than his arms around her. He could provide that, no problem.

“Fuck, I’m glad you’re back too,” he said, stroking his palm over her hair.

After a couple minutes, she pulled back again and sighed. Her eyes trailed over his face, settled on his with something he couldn’t name swimming in the violet depths. Whatever she was looking for— or wasn’t looking for— it made her expression smooth and soften.

The corners of her lips quirked. He couldn’t have looked away if he’d tried. “Did you miss me?” she asked.

He knew she was only teasing, but he was nothing but honest. “Every minute.”

Her mouth widened into bright smile and he felt like a dehydrated man with his first taste of cool water. More than ever, he was grateful for the mask covering his face. Otherwise, he might have done something stupid, like kiss her forehead.

“Come on,” he said, brushing his thumbs over her the bare skin of her ribs. Was that a shiver? She was probably just ticklish. “The sooner you report to Kotal Kahn, the sooner we can get a drink and relax.”

She nodded and smoothed her skirts and hair down. Erron glanced at her remaining bodyguard—Rudas.

“You’re off-duty now,” he said. “I’ll look out for her.”

Rudas seemed to all but collapse with relief and scurried off. Nix watched after him with genuine sympathy and shook her head.

“C’mon, Erron. Let’s get this over with. I’m exhausted.”

Before walking into the main chamber, she inhaled deeply, straightened her spine and lifted her chin. She walked in with her shoulders back, looking confident. It was almost enough to hide that she was fatigued. Kotal Kahn even grinned as she strode in.

“Welcome back,” he called as she approached.

She bowed when she was close enough and offered a smile back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Glad to be back, emperor,” she replied.

“Tell me of your work in the Badlands.”

Nix had returned to turmoil. Officials squabbling for head administrative duties or otherwise trying to manage multiple positions at once, the villages suffering for their negligence. She’d had to smooth feathers, sort out the competent from the idiots. There had been a riot and two assassination attempts. The first assassination attempt had only happened while she was present, but the second had been aimed at her and cost Tenac’s life.

In the end, she’d assigned an almost entirely new local administration. The change had been met with some suspicion from the villages, but the extra week with her oversight had allowed them to begin rebuilding a positive relationship with the citizens.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on it, but I think the Badlands should be set,” she concluded.

“Excellent,” the emperor said. “You have earned rest. Report to me again in three days and we will begin work.”

She nodded, shoulders relaxing a little. Her eyes slid to Erron. “I’m going to go bathe.”

He nodded in return. “I’ll catch you after,” he promised.

The silence after she left was deafening. Kotal Kahn said nothing, but his eyes bore into Erron and for once Erron felt the awkward urge to speak, to explain. He had no idea what he would be explaining, though. The emperor could be inscrutable, even after the years Erron had been working for him.

“You and Phoenix have grown close,” Kotal Kahn said at last.

Erron didn’t shift with discomfort, didn’t glance away. There was nothing to feel guilty about, no codes of conduct had been violated. The emperor didn’t have any rules against his employees _getting along,_ of all things. Still, the instinct to downplay it, whether for her sake or his own, was compelling.

He shrugged. “Guess so,” he offered.

Kotal Kahn nodded slowly, expression contemplative. “That is interesting.”

Erron arched his eyebrows. In his experience, it wasn’t good to hear warlords or dictators say that. “Is it, sir?”

“Of all my retinue, I would not have anticipated you and Phoenix bonding.”

Shit, neither had Erron, but Nix had a habit of doing what she wanted regardless of anyone’s expectations.

“Yes, sir,” Erron agreed.

Kotal Kahn smirked. “Go see to our psychic, Erron. Your presence is more useful to her than me at this moment.”

Happily dismissed again, Erron nodded and left without a word. Nix was probably still bathing, so he stopped by the kitchen to get her a snack and tea. When she opened the door to him, a relieved sigh left her as she stepped back to let him enter. Her hair was still wet from the bath, hanging around her in drying curls.

“My head is killing me. Thank you,” she said.

They settled on her bed, and she all but chugged from the cup, making a customary face at the flavor but grateful for its effects. Ghost leapt up to join them, and Erron blinked at the Taigore cub as he scratched behind the triangular ears. He hadn’t even noticed the kitten, he’d been so focused on Nix was she’d arrived.

“Has he gotten bigger?” he asked.

She hummed the affirmative, mouth full of food. Erron shot her a look. The bath seemed to have replenished her some, but it hadn’t removed the circles from under her eyes. Nor did it make him forget the way she’d felt in his arms.

“You haven’t been eating,” he accused.

She swallowed, uncomfortable for the first time since they’d met. “Well…”

“Phoenix.”

She huffed in half-hearted annoyance, eyes dropping to the plate as she sandwiched cheese between two slices of fruit. “My appetite has been… finicky. There’s been too much to do, and when I had the time to eat, I wasn’t hungry. It didn’t help that…”

She shook her head, stuffed the construct in her mouth and chewed slowly. Erron gave her until she swallowed before asking.

“What is it?”

She rubbed at one of her eyes, a tell that she was reaching the limits of her stamina. If she hadn’t been eating well, then he was sure she hadn’t been sleeping much either.

“The guards…” she admitted, shoulders slumping.

Erron straightened up, frowning. A streak of protectiveness scorched through him. “What about them? What did they do?”

She shook her head, reached out with one hand to catch his, soothing. “They didn’t _do_ anything. It’s just… they were so loud.”

His brow furrowed. She probably wasn’t referring to their volume, but the concept of some people’s minds being “louder” than others… it was hard to wrap his head around.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Their emotions, their thoughts.” She tapped her temple. “I could hear— feel— them through walls. They kept me up at night. Tenac was suspicious all the time, or distrustful. Rudas was scared of me to start, but after the assassination attempt, it got so much worse.”

She sighed and leaned into him, nudging the plate aside. Erron adjusted so she could get more comfortable, his hands twitching on the sheets beside them. He wanted to hold her, but that would cross a line, wouldn’t it? It was hard to tell, things were starting to blur between what he wanted and what they had.

“I’ll find you someone else,” he promised.

She shook her head a little and nestled closer. “You said they were the best and Tenac _died_. I can’t do that again. Besides, anyone who spends that much time around me is going to be loud.”

Of course. She was an empath. It made sense that the better she knew someone, the more attuned to them she would be. A week had been enough to establish that connection and she had suffered for it. Any other guard would likely end up the same, wary of Nix or not.

His mind offered the immediate, obvious solution: himself. Nix couldn’t read his thoughts or emotions— at least not with her abilities— and he wasn’t wary or frightened of her. They already worked well together; she’d outright said she trusted him.

But he was being paid to protect _Kotal Kahn._ How the fuck would he swing that?

“I’ll figure something out,” he insisted.

She hummed but didn’t respond further. Her breathing was turning deep and even, body going slack against him. Ghost was already asleep on Erron’s other side. He should have left, let Nix settle in and rest properly. He just couldn’t bring himself to move, though. She was warm and comfortable against him, completely relaxed. He stayed until his back began to ache from his shitty posture and then until the sun began setting.

Sighing, he started to extricate himself as carefully as he could. He almost made it too, and then her eyelids fluttered. Erron grimaced, paused in the hopes that she would drift off again.

“Erron?” she murmured.

“Right here, darlin’,” he said, voice rough. “Go back to sleep.”

Her fingers curled in his belt. “Stay, please? Just a little longer…”

And how the hell was he supposed to say no to that? “Sure, sugar.”

They rearranged themselves. Erron kicked off his boots and settled half-laying, half-leaning on the headboard. Nix nearly crawled on top of him, her head resting over his heart. He looped an arm around her waist, groped for one of her books over the side of the bed with the other. She was already asleep again and he resigned himself to whiling away at least another hour.

As luck had it, he’d picked up a novel and not a spell book. It was part history and part fable of Outworld’s history and Erron, who usually didn’t have much interest in books, found himself invested. He read until his eyes became heavy and the moon was high in the sky, Nix a warm, welcome weight against him.

***

Erron woke the next morning to quiet, scandalized whispers and delighted giggles. Just the servants, he recognized immediately. Weird that they were in his room, though. He’d made it clear long ago that he didn’t want them walking in without express permission. They’d respected that so far.

He cracked his eyes open to a see a couple women huddled by the doorway. Wait… that wasn’t where his door was— or more accurately, his bed wasn’t oriented towards the door that way. He was still wearing his mask, too… had he slept in it? It was really fucking uncomfortable. Why had he—

Oh.

Nix shifted against him, picked her head up with a sleepy hum.

“Izana,” she groaned.

One of the maids stepped forward, trying and failing to hide her smile. “Lady Phoenix?”

“Would you mind coming back later?” she asked.

“Of course, miss,” Izana replied.

Nix called a tired “thank you” as the two servants retreated. She dropped her head against his chest again with a quiet sigh. Erron shifted carefully, trying to figure out what was happening. He had barely moved all night except to slide lower on the mattress. His arm had fallen asleep with her weight on it. His back ached a little. The corner of the book was cutting an imprint into his forehead.

It was the best sleep he’d gotten in years.

“Good morning,” Nix murmured finally.

He inhaled to steel himself, the scent of her filling his nose, and couldn’t find it in himself to panic.

“Morning, sunshine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nix knows almost nothing about "political stuff", but I think in this case, she doesn't need it. Outworld has a looser political system and Nix isn't dumb. She's probably read a lot of treatises and strategy theory in her studies. With that, common sense, and her abilities, she's doing a lot of good for Outworld and its citizens. Doesn't mean it's not taking its toll, especially when she's away from her support system at the palace. All in all, she left the Badlands with more friends than enemies, though.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter is smut and then who knows how many more chapters there will be. I think, if we include the next chapter, two or three? Not many, honestly. This is less plot-based and more just for fun and fluff. And some smut, obviously. Once they're together, there's no need for much else.


	11. No "Trust" Without "Us"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nix and Erron did things a little backwards this time, but they can afford it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-o this is pretty much nothing but smut and I don't regret that. These poor idiots needed it.
> 
> And yes, I did see that Erron's face has been revealed in the new MK11 trailer. Honestly? Nice. He looks so clean. For personal reasons, I'm pretending it's because a certain someone gave him a haircut and found him some makeup remover. In any case, my idea of him formed before seeing that and I'm too stubborn to change the way I imagine him now. Netherrealm Studios can fight me on this.

Erron had always pictured Nix as a morning person. She was so bubbly during the day, so present and electric that he hadn’t been able to imagine her as anything else as long as she was conscious. Even at night, she had an alertness to her. An alertness that, in hindsight, probably had more to do with anxiety than being quick to wake up.

In the midmorning sunlight streaming through her half-uncovered window, he realized his assumption had been wrong. There were lines along one side of her face and her hair was tussled and tangled from lying on him all night. She squinted against the brightness, eyes foggy and faintly glowing as she sat up.

He smirked a little as she yawned, one of those wide, jaw-cracking ones and didn’t even bother to cover her mouth. She looked like she’d slept like the dead and had just been revived— and considering that he hadn’t woken up or even dreamed all night, they both must have. He sat up and stretched, his bad shoulder and most of the joints in his spine popping in succession.

Ghost crawled into her lap, nuzzling up against her palms and stomach and also yawning. She scratched at him absently, shoulders slumped. Erron rubbed his palm over her back as she scrubbed her eyes with one hand, unreasonably amused by it all.

“Quit smiling,” she grumbled, side-eyeing him. “’S too early.”

He chuckled and squeezed her shoulder as he stood. “I’m gonna take a leak while you wake up.”

The book he’d been reading tumbled to the floor. She gazed at it dully, didn’t even move to pick it up. Erron snorted and retrieved it for her, set it on top of the nearest stack, then headed to the bathroom attached to her room.

It was a neat, tidy space filled with all sorts of… fuck, he didn’t even know what. Bottles and jars and so many towels that he couldn’t imagine her using them all. Erron’s bathroom was clean too, but that was mostly because he had so little in there.

Whatever. There was a toilet and a sink and that was all that really mattered to him. He did his business, washed his hands, and then hesitated. Nix wouldn’t enter without knocking, probably, and sleeping in his mask had not been his brightest moment. Fuck it.

Erron unbuckled his mask and splashed his face with cool water, rubbing at the indentations left along his nose and cheeks and jaw. Even scrubbed a little soap over his stubbled skin. Nothing that smelled like her, some concoction he recognized from his own bathroom. The last thing his psyche needed was to smell her on his own skin all day.

He paused again before putting the mask on. Nix had never asked him to take it off, had never made more than passing remarks or asked inconsequential questions. Even her jokes about it were clearly _not_ pointed. She went out of her way to assure him that she was minding her business about it.

He wore it mostly for work. He was almost always on the clock, so he was almost always wearing it. Sure, he had a scar hidden under there that he was mildly embarrassed of, but nothing hideous and nothing so shameful that it required the mask, as some rumors claimed.

After he had begun working for Kotal Kahn, it had become a symbol of his status and a trademark of his style. It also gave him an iota of freedom on the rare occasion he travelled to Earthrealm. Special Forces didn’t have his full face on file thanks to the mask, so he could walk freely as long as he didn’t cause trouble. Same thing for Outworld, when he felt like dressing out of his usual wardrobe to walk around— which wasn’t necessary.

The truth was, though, that Erron was just more used to wearing it than not.

There was really… no reason to hide his face from Nix. Shit, considering recent developments, he kind of _wanted_ her to see his face. He knew she wouldn’t care, that it wouldn’t affect their relationship— friendship, he corrected himself— at least not negatively.

Fuck it, he thought again. If it was a mistake, it wouldn’t be the biggest one he’d ever made.

He exited the bathroom without fanfare, his mask clipped to his belt. In the time he’d spent screwing around, Nix had changed clothes and was busy trying to tame her hair. He winced as she caught a tangle that made her swear under her breath. Seeing it, though, reminded him of what he’d noticed the day before.

“It’s shorter than when you left,” he observed. “What happened?”

“It caught fire a little,” she explained as she turned, “and then I got blood tangled… oh.”

Well, she was awake now. Nix froze with the brush stuck in her hair, eyes round and lips parted as she took him in. A flush of color trickled into her cheeks as the seconds ticked on. Erron was a confident man— one (many) might even say arrogant— but he shifted as she just continued to stare. Was she even breathing?

He cleared his throat, hoped that he could prompt her into finishing her thought. “Blood washes out, you know?”

She blinked. “Uh… it was all matted and gross. Too much effort, so I got it cut.” Then, without even pausing for breath, she said, “ _Goddamn you’re handsome.”_

Erron laughed and _saw_ her suck in a breath at that. Her eyes were still too wide. He sidled a little closer, partly for her benefit and partly for his own. They’d been glued together all night, but instead of satisfying the urge to be close to her, it had somehow made it worse. She seemed too distracted to care, or maybe she wanted him close too.

Her eyes traced over his features when he was within arm’s reach, caught on the scars that slanted over his lips. They stuck there, stared for a beat too long before she ran her tongue over her own mouth, and it did terrible things to him. She didn’t even seem to be aware she’d done it.

“Can… can I…?” she hesitantly raised a hand, indicating what she wanted.

He hadn’t expected that. Seeing his face was one thing, but touching him…? No one had touched his face in years. There were too many ways it could go wrong. Too many ways someone could take advantage of such a vulnerable spot.

But it was Nix asking.

“Sure.”

Her fingertips were light and gentle as they brushed his jaw, like he was made of glass. She started at his cheek, where the indent from the edge of the mask was still visible. Then she tracked down, rasping over his stubble. He watched her expression, trying to gaze her thoughts. Her own eyes were trained on the points where she touched him, her plush mouth slightly parted in concentration.

A muscle in his jaw ticked as she followed the line of it to his chin, where she paused and then inched up to his mouth. Erron’s hand twitched at his side, the urge to stop her before they went too far.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to. God, did he want her to, but the barriers between them were falling like enemies on a battlefield. One by one, faster than he could keep up. It felt like there would soon be nothing between them and… something. Something big.

Oblivious to his thoughts as always, her index finger followed the largest scar starting from his chin and then up over his lips to where it ended below his nose. His skin tingled everywhere her fingers went, almost burned where she’d already been. It would be so easy to change everything, to open his mouth and just…

_Knock, knock._

Nix’s hand jerked back and Erron resisted the contradictory urges to both groan in frustration, and sigh in relief. A rosy flush bloomed across her face as she flitted away to answer the door. She cracked it open and inserted herself in the space, and something in him panged when he realized she was trying to respect his privacy. Trying to keep the servants from seeing him without the mask.

Fuck, she was something else.

“Thank you, Izana,” she chirped. “If you could keep the girls from barging in… thank you!”

When Nix turned back, she had a huge platter of food in her hands. Enough for two people. He chuckled as she walked back, still a little pink, smiling with all her usual warmth.

“Breakfast?” she asked.

“Bold of them,” he remarked.

Her floor was covered in a large rug that he remembered buying with her. Something handwoven and turquoise, with an abstract geometric pattern crisscrossed in gold throughout. There were a few matching wide, flat pillows spread around as well. They each sat on one, the platter between them.

“Can you blame them?” she pointed out. “We slept together.”

He sputtered, then caught the wicked look on her face and rolled his eyes. “Pain in the ass,” he grumped.

“Uh huh,” she giggled. “Have something to eat, cowboy. It’ll make you feel better.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, filling their stomachs and pretending to fight over slices of bread and fruit.

“So, I know how you are about this sort of thing, but I’m gonna ask anyway,” she began.

He snorted and shot her an amused look. Whenever she was about to ask him something she thought might annoy him, she always prefaced with a statement like that. In the beginning, he’d appreciated the opportunity to brace himself, but that had long stopped being necessary.

“Go for it, darlin’,” he said anyway.

“Is there any particular reason you took your mask off this morning?” she asked. “Or was it just spur of the moment?”

He glanced at her, surprised. She usually didn’t ask about his motivations for things, just accepted his words and actions as they came. The “why” of it was sometimes too difficult and gruesome for him to explain, and maybe she’d figured that out for herself even though she couldn’t read his thoughts and emotions.

“Spur of the moment,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. His hat had fallen off the bed at some point and he hadn’t gotten it yet. “Figured it was kind of stupid for me to keep wearing it.”

She arched her eyebrows as she nibbled on a piece of bread. “Hmm? Why? You could’ve.”

He glanced away. The first time he hadn’t been able to look her in the eye.

“Seemed kind of dumb, given everything.” He gestured vaguely at her room as explanation. It was a lame answer, and he knew it.

Still, she hummed in understanding, but— was he being wishful or was there a note of… disappointment in her voice? They fell silent to finish eating, and it gave him time to think.

Things were different. They’d been different since she’d left and Erron had realized that he didn’t want anyone but her. It was the reason he’d stayed the night before. It was ultimately the reason he’d allowed her to see him without his mask.

His options boiled down to two paths, now that he’d acknowledged that he wanted something more than friendship with her. He could stay silent, leave well enough alone and enjoy their friendship as it was. Or he could try to change things.

In the end, Nix was the deciding factor. He didn’t want to ruin things between them, but he also _knew_ her. He had always made decisions with a confident prediction of how she’d react, despite how she still managed to surprise him at times. He’d been right about her liking the bar; he’d been right about her reaction to his mask coming off. They were friends because they understood each other.

How would Nix react if he told her that he had— fuck, that he had feelings for her?

The strategic part of his mind supplied an answer right away. Worst case scenario: she’d politely turn him down, but they’d get past it eventually. Maybe some awkwardness for a little bit, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Some gut instinct— or maybe it was foolish hope— told him that that wasn’t what would happen. And Erron had always followed his gut.

“Erron?” His head jerked up. Nix tilted her head a little, eyes worried. “Everything okay?”

The platter was clear, she’d already nudged it out of the way. No better time than the present, he thought. He’d put less thought into bigger decisions.

“Yeah,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Nothing to worry about, sugar.”

She hummed, the corners of her lips curving up, but she seemed distracted. Her eyes were wandering over his face again, but they kept drifting back to one place in particular…

“Hey, Nix.”

She blinked, the use of her name catching her off guard and piquing her interest. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

There was a beat of silence. A second where his question processed.

“Yes.” And then her body caught up with her words and she leaned towards him, her hand lifting like it had when she’d asked to touch his face. “Kiss me.”

There wouldn’t be a better invitation than that. Erron wasn’t a delicate man and Nix wasn’t a fragile woman. He cupped her face, not hard but firm, and guided her mouth to his. Their mouths fit together like they were made for each other. Her mouth was soft and full, felt like heaven against his. It was almost chaste, at first. Inquisitive but brave. Figuring out how to slant their heads, where they wanted to settle their hands.

They pulled away just enough to catch their breaths, eyes locked on each other. Nix exhaled shakily, softly, and Erron tilted his chin to kiss her again. Deeper this time, to taste her on his tongue. She tasted like magic to him, a pleasant tingle along the roof of his mouth. Nix welcomed him with all the enthusiasm she usually did, one of her hands threading into his hair and scraping his scalp as a quiet, pleased noise escaped her.

It set something off in him, that little hum. One of his hands slid down to her waist, but she was already climbing into his lap, her other arm curling around his neck. Her teeth caught across his bottom lip and his hand twitched on her hip. Nix flashed a wicked little grin, made him realize she’d done it on purpose. A spike of arousal shot through him.

Erron dove into the next kiss like she was the only thing keeping him alive. One hand slid over the skin bared by her clothes, fingers spread across length of her ribs. The thumb of his other hand stroked her cheek, tilted her just enough so he could kiss her deeper. Their tongues met and tangled, explored and teased. Her body pressed tight against his, humming with energy.

It felt like hours before they parted, lightheaded and short of breath. Her eyes were lit up, pupils blown wide. Her mouth was wet and rosy, cheeks flushed and hair disheveled. She searched his face for a second and then inhaled, looking determined.

“I want you,” she said, and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.

His brain got caught between saying “you can have me” and “I want you too” and came out, “I can have you.”

A bright laugh escaped her even as he groaned in dismay, but she just kissed him quiet and then pulled back with smile. “You can have me if you want me.”

He only had one response to that, at least. “I do.”

She kissed him one more time and then began to disentangle herself. “Then, let’s take this to the bed.”

He smirked. Erron had always found confident women sexy. “Yes, ma’am.”

She stood and sauntered to the bed, and Erron’s felt no shame in staring at her ass and thighs as she climbed up. Nix settled dead center, sitting so perfect and pretty with her clothing uneven and hair messy.

“Um… Erron?” She sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “Are you going to come?”

That snapped him out of his dazed appreciation. He scrambled to his feet and followed her, mouth running without his mind fully present.

“Not before you do,” he promised.

She snorted and reached for him, tugged him right up to the edge of the bed by his belt. “A man after my own heart. Clothes first, though.”

He really needed to get his head in the game before he made an idiot of himself. Erron wanted to make this better than good for her, and to do that he had to stop acting like a fumbling teenager.

She was just really fucking distracting.

“I’d offer to do it myself, but I have… no idea how any of that works,” she admitted with a vague gesture at his various layers and buckles. She was still smiling. Always smiling. Fuck, she was _pretty_.

Erron leaned in and kissed her again out of raw need to be close to her, to feel her, fingers threading through her hair and marveling at how soft it was. He wanted— no, he _needed_ — to know if all of her was that soft.

“Just sit back and relax, angel,” he murmured, “I’ll take care of everything.”

She bit her lip, eyes flashing as she settled back again. He started stripping down, the smaller pieces first. The various bandoleers, his weapon holsters, the few pieces of armor he bothered with, his boots. Nix tilted her head, an interesting combination of fascinated and turned on. If he knew her— and he did— she was probably memorizing the order and mechanics so she really could do it herself later on.

His belt clattered to the floor and she sat up a little straighter, hands twitching where they rested on the bedspread. He smirked as he tugged his shirt over his head first, drawing it out for her benefit. She hummed, eyes glued to his abdomen.

“God, you really are a stripper,” she muttered.

He laughed, let her inch closer to run her small, warm hands over his muscles and old, long-healed scars. Her mouth followed, sweet, almost innocent kisses and some not-so-innocent ones that involved her teeth and tongue and made him shiver with want. Every touch soothed something inside him, satisfied a craving he hadn’t realized he had, like an addict with their first hit after a week of withdrawal.

It was kind of fucking miraculous how relaxed he felt, how relaxed he could tell Nix was. There was trust in what they were doing, a trust Erron hadn’t put in anyone for longer than he could remember. He wasn’t acutely aware of where her hands were out of wariness, but because he loved the way they felt on him.

“Hey, come down here,” Nix said, tugging on his arm.

He crawled up with her, stomach clenching as she shifted to cradle him between her thighs. She sank back against the mattress and he followed, balancing on his elbows to kiss her deep before trailing down. Her hands slid up his biceps to his shoulders, nails digging in when he sucked a mark into a sensitive spot near her ear. She squirmed beneath him, and he lowered his body to feel her better beneath him.

“Sorry,” she gasped and unlatched her fingers from his skin.

“It’s alright,” he promised, kissing down her throat. She tilted her chin back to give him access, hips flexing in little aborted movements as he continued exploring. “How I know I’m doing things right.”

She hummed, directed his face up to kiss him again as her hand trailed down to the waistband of his pants. He caught her wrist gently before she could complete her task, arching an eyebrow and smirking at her. She blinked at him.

“Your turn, darlin’,” he said.

She outright shivered, legs twitching by his hips as she nodded. Erron sat back, decided to start with her top. Unlike his clothing, all of hers hooked together, or laced in neat little bows. He worked each one open with a reverent, open-mouthed kiss for each new patch of skin revealed. She tasted clean on his tongue, like she’d just showered.

When her top half was bare, he paused, drank in the sight of her. Her body was nothing but gentle, sloping curves, almost shimmery in the sunlight peeking through the window. A hot burn of pure lust coursed through him. She was fucking gorgeous. All soft, unmarked skin and restless energy, welcoming and responsive as he ran his palm up her abdomen.

“You’re beautiful,” he admitted. He couldn’t believe he’d never said it aloud before. The flush that spread down to her chest made him regret not saying it sooner.

“Going soft for me, cowboy?” she teased.

He arched an eyebrow and made a point of rocking his hips against her, the bulge in his pants answering that question eloquently. “You tell me.”

Her gasp turned into a mewl at the end. A quiet, high noise that made him twitch. It was fucking addictive. He did it again, soaked in the way her back arched and her hands clutched at him. Erron hadn’t even really touched her yet and she was already so sensitive. Fuck.

His mouth descended on her abdomen, blazing a path up to her breasts. One of her hands tangled in his hair, nails scraping his scalp and tugging as he captured a pebbled nipple between his lips. He leaned his weight on one arm to palm her other breast, pinching the nipple until she keened and dragged her nails down his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, Erron,” she whimpered. “So good…”

He lingered there for a while, memorizing her reactions as he laved attention on both her breasts. She was especially vocal when he used his teeth and then soothed it with his tongue, her head thrown back and fingertips gripping.

Erron finally began to drift lower, worshipping the planes of her body as he worked the laces of her skirt open. She shifted to assist him, clinging with shaking hands to his biceps and shoulders. He slid her skirt and panties down in one go, hands lingering on the satiny skin of her thighs.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She hadn’t given any indication of discomfort, but this wasn’t something he was willing to fuck up. When he glanced up, she looked dazed, eyes hazy and clouded with arousal. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and inhaled.

“Fantastic,” she managed.

He tried not to grin with too much pride. “You want to keep going?”

She nodded, offered him a reassuring smile as she threaded her fingers through his. “Please.”

Erron squeezed her hand, letting her know that he was right there with her, that he would take care of her. Then he shifted his body lower and nudged her legs apart to accommodate the wider set of his shoulders. Her breathing hitched as he kissed up her thigh, sucked a mark into the sensitive skin there and then moved inwards.

His tongue delved into her slit, licked up in one broad stroke until he circled her clit with the tip. She inhaled sharply, hips bucking, and he caught her hip with the hand not holding himself up, pinned her down. She whimpered and shifted, but he recognized it wasn’t discomfort but arousal that caused it. So she liked that, did she? Good to know. Really good.

His mouth worked around her at first, getting acquainted with her taste before focusing on her clit again. She was almost sweet— all the fruit she ate and water she drank, he thought absently. He worked tight circles around the little bundle of nerves, then long, flat strokes before applying gentle suction.

Nix squirmed with every little touch and he fucking loved it, every second of it. The way she tasted and smelled and sounded as he held her down and pleasured her with his mouth. Erron had never minded giving oral when a room was dark enough for him to take the mask off, but he loved giving it Nix. Loved the way she moaned and panted and begged for more.

He found a rhythm that worked for her. Really worked for her, if the pitch of her whimpers was anything to go by. Her stomach tensed, thighs trembling. She was getting close and as much as he wanted her to come on his tongue, he had to do more than eat her out if they were going to get anywhere else.

Erron pulled back a little, which earned him the sweetest little noise of protest. He kissed her hip in reassurance as he shifted, eased one of her thighs over his shoulder and adjusted to free up his dominant hand. She blinked at him, uncomprehending until he eased the first finger into her wet heat. Fuck, she was absolutely _dripping_.

She cried out as he curled the digit, the noise bouncing off the walls. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth even while she arched and moaned as he began pumping slowly.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured. She tightened at the sound of his low, rough voice and he clenched his jaw at the thought of her around his dick. “Let me hear you.”

Her hand fell back to the blankets and he rewarded her with his mouth, playing with her clit as he opened her up. Working a second finger wasn’t hard, not with how wet and desperate she was for it, almost making her come again before he was satisfied. He paused before adding a third. His hands were wider than hers and even though he was being careful, she still seemed so tight to him.

“You okay for a third?” he asked.

Nix bit her lip and flexed around him. “Can’t I just have your cock now?”

He cursed and pressed his forehead to her stomach as his dick pulsed, almost painfully hard. Tried to collect his thoughts. Fuck. _Fuck_. She was going to be the death of him.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he choked out. “You’ll thank me later.”

She whined and pressed against his fingers still inside her. “Then, yes. Gimme more.”

He was slower with the third, and she did seem appreciative of that in the end. Her eyes squeezed shut and he guided her through it with murmurs of encouragement and praise, and then with his tongue again. Erron was slow and careful until her body relaxed, and he could move easily, curving his fingers to rub a spot inside her that made her shake.

“Please, Erron,” she whimpered. He didn’t need to ask what she wanted.

He worked his hand a little faster, set a rhythm that matched his tongue until she tensed again, her walls twitching and tightening around his fingers. Her voice hitched and then broke, her back arching and eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted in a perfect little “o.” He drew it out for her, stroked that spot inside her until she whimpered and nudged his shoulder.

He drew back and cleaned his fingers with his mouth, keeping smug eye contact with her all the while. She caught her breath and reached for him, curling her arms around his shoulders as they kissed. Didn’t seem to mind the taste of herself on his tongue. Her hands lazily mapped out his body as she kissed a mark into his neck, making the arousal burning low in his stomach even hotter.

Eventually she discovered that his pants were still on and she suggestively ran her fingertips just inside the waistband. His hips jerked of their own accord, eager to be inside her.

“Off,” she said simply.

He sat up and shimmied them down his hips, much to her amusement.

“You really are like a stripper,” she observed, not without appreciation. “Also, I can’t believe I never noticed you go commando before.”

He arched an eyebrow as he crawled up to her again. “How would you notice that?”

She shrugged. “I look at your butt a lot. I feel like I would have seen the waistband at _some_ point if you wore them.”

He chuckled, brushing her hair back from her face. She leaned into the touch and kissed his palm. His heart clenched a little, completely incongruous to all the filthy things he wanted to do to (and with) her.

“When do you find the time to look at my butt?” he asked, kind of impressed.

She shrugged and grinned. “I’m good at multitasking.” And as a demonstration, her hand slid down to his cock. Her touch was hesitant at first, too light and too slow to truly be pleasurable but it was Nix touching him, which more than made up for it.

Like everything else, she wasn’t shy for long, either. Her touch became braver, more confident, and it was so much better than he’d imagined. Her hands were so soft and small, but so sure as her grip tightened until she got the reaction she wanted and she worked up to the head, where she rubbed her thumb over the bead of precome that formed.

“Fuck, darlin’, I’m not gonna last if you keep that up,” he groaned, catching her wrist.

“That’s kinda hot,” she admitted, and his responding chuckle was genuine, if rough.

Erron pinned her arm down by her head as he settled his hips in the cradle of her thighs again, smirking at the way her pupils dilated. He rocked his hips slowly over her opening, the head of his cock brushing over her sensitive clit. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip to bite back whatever noise she’d been about to make, but her breathing was unsteady again.

He kissed her jaw, followed it until she relented and kissed him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, permission written in every line of her body as he laced his fingers with hers. They worked together, her free hand guiding him to her entrance, and he rolled his hips, sank into her with a sigh that shook his whole frame.

Nix felt like heaven around him, burning hot and slick and snug despite preparing her. He paused with just the head inside her, held himself rigid to keep from moving. Her grip on his hand was bruising.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

She swallowed thickly and shook her head. “Just keep going slow,” she managed.

When he hesitated, her eyes fluttered open, glanced over his features with a heavy-lidded warmth and trust that made his thoughts foggy. Her free hand guided him into an intimate kiss as she flexed her legs around his waist again. He let her guide him deeper, let her set the pace until he bottomed out and they both broke away to breathe deeply.

“I’m alright,” she assured him. “Just wait a second if you can.”

He could do anything she wanted of him. It was just really, really hard. Like him.

They stayed like that for a few long, excruciating moments, breathing against each other and exchanging distracted kisses until she shifted and hummed. Erron tensed; he could feel that she’d adjusted to his size, but he wouldn’t do anything until—

“You can move now,” she murmured. “Please move.”

He drew back, slow to be certain that she really was comfortable, and then rocked into her again, controlled and firm. The head of his cock dragged along her walls, the entire movement smooth and easy with how wet she was. Nix arched beneath him, moaned. Pleasure sparked up his spine, sharp and electric.

“Yes,” she whispered, “yes, Erron, oh my god.”

He didn’t hesitate another second, found a rhythm that had them both gasping and moaning in ecstasy. Every time she clenched around him, he gritted his teeth, pulses of need and pleasure ricocheting through him.

He caught one of her thighs, drew it up by his ribs so he could hit deeper. Nix cried out, canted her hips to meet his with each thrust. Her nails scratched down his spine in trails that left fire in their wake, heightening his pleasure, adding an edge to it that made his hips stutter. Her teeth sank into his shoulder, made him curse and jerk harder than he had been, burying deep and rough. She cried out, every part of her tightening.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she gasped. “Harder. Please. I won’t break.”

Erron hooked her leg up over his shoulder, drew back to get better leverage, and _slammed_ into her. The bed knocked into the wall. Nix made broken but undeniably pleasured sounds and gripped the headboard above her in a white-knuckled grip.

The new position gave him the vantage to appreciate the view. Nix, spread out and sweating beneath him, panting and writhing and lost in so much pleasure she could barely form words anymore. Stretched out and beautiful and all his, fuck, and so, so good around him. His eyes slid lower, to where their bodies met, his cock disappearing into her.

He wasn’t going to last much longer.

Erron slide his hand between them, rubbed his thumb over her clit in time with his thrusts. Her walls fluttered around him, squeezed. She screamed as she reached her peak, back snapping into a perfect arch. There was a flurry, some noise that wasn’t supposed to be there, but Erron barely noticed.

The tight heat of her second orgasm tipped him over his own edge. He groaned her name as he came, white-hot ecstasy setting off firecrackers throughout his body. He felt lit up, white spots dancing behind his closed eyes.

He kept moving, drew out their orgasms into rolling waves of pleasurable heat until they collapsed, exhausted and euphoric. Erron barely managed to pull away, rolled onto his back beside her so they could both cool off, but his hand was still entwined with hers.

They laid there for a small eternity, boneless and hazy in the afterglow. Erron recovered first, though he didn’t do more than turn his head to look at her. Nix’s eyes were closed, her expression content. Her breathing had evened out, slow and deep, but she wasn’t asleep. She was practically glowing in the sunlight, fucked out and happy, totally relaxed.

As if sensing his eyes on her, she blinked her own open and turned to him with a smile.

“That was a long time coming,” she said.

His surprise must have shown on his face because she laughed, and it sounded like warm honey.

“You don’t think so?” she asked.

“No, I agree,” he assured her. “I just, uh… I thought it was more one-sided, I guess.”

She snorted and rolled onto her stomach, putting her side right up against his. When she stretched out, it was a delicious slide of skin that would have gotten him rock hard again if he’d been able. Instead, he settled for gliding his hand down her spine, appreciating the way she moved into it like a cat.

“Did any of that seem one-sided to you?” she challenged.

He chuckled and kissed her shoulder, just because he could. Just because he wanted to. “No, ma’am.”

She hummed, amused and content. “Didn’t think so.”

They fell silent for a little while, enjoying the company and lingering warmth. Erron glanced around for Ghost, realized he’d completely lost track of the kitten while they’d been fucking like bunnies. Luckily, Ghost was snoozing in a patch of sunlight on the other side of the room. The room that was… a mess. Nix’s books and papers were everywhere, like a hurricane had come through.

“What happened?” he wondered.

Nix sat up and followed his gaze, her eyes widening as she solved the mystery. “Oh my god. When I came. I thought I heard something— my abilities must have gone a little haywire.”

They burst into laughter, and Erron had to admit pride for causing that. He hadn’t known he could make her lose control of her powers, but now he had a goal to strive for in the future.

She settled on his chest, drawing patterns around the scars scattered there. “What are we going to do about the bodyguard situation?” she asked.

We. He liked the sound of that.

“Figure I’ll convince Kotal Kahn to let me be your guard fulltime,” he drawled. “I can’t think of anyone else who could do it, or anybody I’d trust for that matter. Wasn’t too thrilled about your first two, but I knew they’d keep you safe.”

Nix seemed a little surprised, but not displeased with the idea. She’d probably thought of it herself, just hadn’t said it for whatever reason.

“As much I’m glad you’re here with me, aren’t you on duty, today?” she inquired. “I mean, you’re still technically the emperor’s bodyguard.”

Erron shrugged, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. “He told me to come to you last night. He probably expected this to happen. The man is pretty sharp.”

She hummed in agreement and pressed her lips right over his heart. “So you think it’ll be easy to convince him?”

He snorted. Nothing was ever “easy” for him. Still, he nodded. “As easy as things ever are.”

***

Later that day after a long, distracted bath and a late lunch, Erron reported to the throne room feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. Kotal Kahn looked too smug for a man whose bodyguard was slacking off and having sex with his prized psychic.

“Erron, I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow at least,” he greeted.

Erron leaned his shoulder against a pillar and crossed his arms. “Very funny.”

Kotal Kahn chuckled and shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know why you even bothered. Just go protect my psychic— ah, _your_ psychic.”

And Erron, dammit, just blinked. “Seriously?”

The emperor stood from his throne and strolled over to stand even with Erron, still seeming amused. For someone like Kotal Kahn, that was practically jovial.

“You have been restless and distracted stuck here at the palace. Phoenix travels more, is a more viable target to my enemies,” he explained, “and I’m certain a much prettier charge. I am hardly in need of protection with Mileena gone. My money is better spent on you guarding her.”

He placed one large, heavy hand on Erron’s shoulder. “You might as well go back to her. She still has two days of leave.”

It felt weird to thank his boss for enabling him to have sex. He settled for nodding as Kotal Kahn walked past him.

“Enjoy your evening, Erron,” he called over his shoulder.

He planned on enjoying more than just an evening with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's confused about him asking to kiss her, here's my thinking-  
> Erron doesn't have time or patience for miscommunication and he doesn't want to upset her but just going for it. He assessed the situation and figured the best way was just to be honest (as he realized long ago in a previous chapter).
> 
> I reckon this story is pretty much finished. I may add an epilogue because I had a fun thought about these two running around Outworld politicking. Erron all silent and scowl-y while Nix is bubbly and charismatic, but they're crazy in-sync with each other and everyone is both amazed and terrified. Also, kind of want them to meet the Kombat Kids for psychic-meeting-telepath reasons. Also, also, I never explained in this fic why Nix came to Outworld, so I could add that too.
> 
> Lastly, at some point I'll get around to doing a Bi Han fic probably. If anyone is interested in reading that, there are two options: Nix and Bi-Han meet as kids and then over time fall in love (very angsty and would involve Nathan) OR she somehow ends up as one of the Lin Kuei's healers and they sass the hell out of each other (funny, with some angst, naturally).
> 
> Whoo! Sorry that was so long. Anyways, happy trails!


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the fear and the fire  
> Of the end of the world  
> Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl  
> ...  
> And the day that we watch the death of the sun  
> That the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on  
> That you gaze unafraid as they saw from the city ruins  
> ...  
> Wasteland, baby  
> I'm in love  
> I'm in love with you
> 
> (Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guess who saw the MK11 cutscenes and has now written a long-ass epilogue/one-shot instead of studying for an exam or updating the Kuai-Nix story.
> 
> On one hand, I'm so distraught over Hanzo, and you'll be hearing from my lawyers. On the other, Erron is hot and just as flirty as I imagined. Anyway, this is me writing intimacy and trying not to get angsty over the thought of these two fighting Kronika and almost dying.
> 
> As always, this is mostly just self-indulgent.

“Alright, so I just have to… there! Look, Erron, I did it!”

Erron tucked his chin over Nix’s shoulder, peering at the flower cupped in her palms. Just a moment ago, it had been a dead bloom, dried and blackened by the harsh Outworld sun. Now it was fresh and healthy, petals vibrant and shimmery from her magic. There was a spell-book open in her lap, one side of it propped up by his leg stretched out next to hers.

“That’s something special, sugar,” he marveled. “You gonna bring me back from the dead when I kick the bucket?”

She snorted and leaned back against his chest. “Cute that you think I’d let you die in the first place,” she shot back.

He chuckled and plucked up the flower, tucked it into the top of the braid she’d twisted her hair into that morning. Sighing contentedly, she laced their fingers together on. With a wave of her hand, the book fluttered shut and Erron was free to bend his leg again, rest his forearm on his knee as he surveyed the courtyard.

Ghost was play-fighting with another runt that they’d picked up from the same breeder that had offered them advice so long ago. This one was technically “Erron’s” by Nix’s decree, and he’d imaginatively named it Fang. Ghost was a year older than him, just starting to grow his tusks and still awkward with them. It made up for Fang’s ungainly limbs and general clumsiness.

It was one of the cooler days in Outworld, the two Taigore’s romping in the sun while their masters lounged in the shade of a tree. This section of the palace had become more or less their private quarters. They needed the space and privacy with two male Taigores, a powerful psychic, and Erron Black on the premises.

Things in Outworld had calmed some, but they were never boring. There were loyalists to Shao Kahn to hunt down, the occasional assassination attempts to thwart. Nix was still a popular target from both other government officials and those who disagreed with Kotal Kahn’s reign. Erron was never wanting for action or adventure, not when he was by her side.

Today was one of the rare days they had a break, however. They’d just gotten back from a month-long stint at the outer reaches of the empire, checking on the administration farther towns and villages. There had been some trouble along the way, of course, but Nix and Erron had made tackled it like always. They had been back a day and a half, with some smaller, easier meetings as their only work.

Though Erron was a man of action, the bit of rest and relaxation was a nice reprieve.

“Huh, that’s weird…” Nix said, perking up and turning her head.

He followed her gaze to the entrance to the palace, where a servant was leading a small group of Earthrealmers towards them. Not just any Earthrealmers, either. It was those damn SF kids, led by Cassandra Cage.

“I thought they were scheduled for later,” Erron muttered, glaring at them.

“They are,” Nix replied, “or _were_ , I guess.”

Well, so much for a quiet morning. Erron stood and then offered a hand to Nix, guiding her to feet as she smoothed out her skirts. Noticing the intruders, the Taigores broke away from each other to flank their masters, sniffing the air curiously.

Though they were still several yards away, the SF brats had noticed the not-so-platonic positioning Erron and Nix had been in. He could already see the surprised and confused glances on some of their faces, the shit-eating grin on the archer’s. Narrowing his eyes in annoyance, he glanced at Nix, who was already watching his expression with amusement.

“Try to play nice, please?” she teased.

“Only because you ask so nicely,” he replied, before gesturing forward. “After you, angel.”

Nix smiled and squeeze his arm lightly as she took the lead. As she approached them, their attention focused on her. He could practically see the gears turning in their heads. Comparing her, clean-cut and draped in white, to him in his leathers.

“The diplomatic envoy from Earthrealm, my lady,” Izana announced with a small bow.

“Thank you for escorting them,” Nix chirped. “Could you come get us when the emperor is free?”

With a nod, Izana retreated back to the palace and the SF team was left with the full force of Nix’s charisma.

“Welcome back to Outworld,” she began, “I’m afraid we haven’t met before. My name is Nix, I’m liaison and first minister for Kotal Kahn.”

“We’re here to discuss a revised version of the Reiko Accords,” Cassandra said.

Nix nodded. “Right. Unfortunately, the emperor is in another meeting, so we’ll have to wait for him for any final decisions. In the meantime, we can—”

“You’re a psychic!” This interruption from the Shirai Ryu kid— Takeda, his name was.

Nix blinked, her polished expression slipping into confusion for a split second, then lighting up with excitement.

“You’re a telepath!” she cried. “That’s amazing!”

Erron huffed, fondly exasperated as the two began chatting, all animated voices and enthusiastic hand gestures. They kept cutting themselves off mid-sentence, likely having half the conversation in their minds.

“You’re the first person I’ve met with abilities like mine!” she gushed, the first full sentence she’d managed since they’d started.

“My father has abilities like mine,” Takeda replied, “but the way your telepathy feels is so interesting…”

And on they went. From the expression on Nix’s face, they weren’t going to be done any time soon.

“So, you and the purple-haired chick, huh?” Kung Jin drawled, sidling up next to Erron. “Never thought I’d see the day Erron Black was tied down.”

He snorted and shot the archer a glare. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever you say, man,” he chuckled, “but good for you.”

They hadn’t been there more than five minutes and they were already getting on his nerves. Nix had asked him to play nice, but that was asking for a lot from a man who only worked well with one person.

“Real question though,” Cassandra said, “how the hell did a woman like _that_ end up with _you_?”

“None of your goddamn business, that’s how,” he shot back.

They seemed like a weird pair, Erron knew. People were drawn to her bright energy, but wary of his general threating presence. It made them a hell of a team in Outworld politics, where people mistook her for the sweet pushover just because he was her bodyguard. They were always in for a hell of a surprise when they said something that rubbed her the wrong way.

“C’mon, we’ve got nothing else to do while we wait for the emperor,” Jacqui coaxed. “How did you two end up together?”

“I’d rather just go back to kicking your asses, if it’s all the same,” he replied. “Making nice, is more Nix’s thing than mine.”

“Who was kicking whose ass last time we crossed paths, Black?” Cassandra scoffed.

The chatter a few feet away cut off abruptly. Nix and Takeda were watching them with expressions of varying interest and worry. Nix strolled over again, casually inserting herself between Erron and the rest of the SF team with a friendly smile.

“How about we head inside?” she offered. “We can sit and have refreshments while we wait.”

“We don’t drink while we’re on duty…” Cassandra began.

“Oh, it’s not for you!” Nix laughed lightly. “ _I_ need a drink.”

While the SF team gawked, Erron smirked to himself and whistled for the Taigores. She was something else, his gal.

***

MK-11

 

Phoenix Merce had been through a lot of strange and fantastical things in her relatively short life.

Her brother had paid for her death, and in the process ushered her into another dimension. One with magic and realms and creatures she’d never imagined seeing in real life. There, she’d become a powerful psychic and magician. She’d risen to be an influential politician and the right hand to the emperor of aforementioned dimension. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with a cowboy mercenary, who was now her bodyguard and boyfriend-slash- “consort.”

It had been a strange and fantastic ride all around. Scary at times, but Erron had been there for her through most of the worst of it, even if he didn’t know it. It had been a few years since that terrifying night/day that had brought her there, and she was delighted to say that she was settled in. There was no “normal” in a place like Outworld, not working for Kotal Kahn, but she’d gotten used to the weirdness, as Erron called it.

There were some things she’d never get used to, though. Like the Koliseum. It was apparently _perfectly_ acceptable for the emperor of the realm to hold public executions in it, with his important administrators and advisors present. Most days, Nix was able to decline with excuses of political duties or psychic headaches, but she didn’t have that luxury this time.

After all, she’d been responsible for bringing in Kotal Kahn’s soon-to-die prisoner. A four-armed Outworlder known only as “The Collector,” he was still loyal to Shao Kahn and the business of enslavement that had become illegal under Kotal’s rule. Sick of his victimization of Outworld citizens, the emperor had utilized her and Erron’s combined skills on a two-week head hunt. They’d succeeded, and she was now obligated to attend the Collector’s execution.

In all honesty, Nix had mixed feelings on the matter. On a humanitarian level, she’d rather not watch anyone die. It was a strain on her psyche to feel death, and it didn’t make a pretty sight, either. On a moral, ethical, and personal level, the most compassion she could muster for the Collector was apathy. In her darker, more honest moments (the moments where she was aware of just how much Erron was rubbing off on her) she even looked forward to his impending doom.

In the process of hunting him down, she’d seen and _felt_ the horrors and cruelties of his “trade” first-hand. She’d made it her own personal side project secure housing and jobs for his freed victims. Erron, ever supportive and helpful, had been sure to eliminate each slaver and lackey that had been stupid enough to be complicit.

She missed his comforting, stoic presence in the Koliseum. While she was required for the execution, Erron was away finishing off the last stronghold of the slavers. Information had indicated that the last camp was more for money and logistics than holding captives, so he’d gone without her. She needed a break from the misery of those places, anyway, and he needed a violent outlet for his frustration and anger with how all of it had affected her.

In the meantime, she had instructions to keep out of trouble and keep to the palace while he was away. As much as she hated to admit it, she did seem to attract trouble, so Erron’s concern wasn’t unfounded. Kotal Kahn had given her the usual couple days of leave when she’d returned, and Nix had spent most of it reading or sitting in on small governmental meetings. Unfortunately, the execution fell within that time period— hence, her somewhat reluctant presence in the Koliseum.

In Kotal Kahn’s favor, he rarely made a spectacle of such matters. This was just a special case. It had drawn most of the capital city and surrounding villages as enthusiastic witness. The mob-mentality of the assembled audience was almost oppressive on her extra senses, prying at her walls and defenses.

Nix sighed through her nose and activated one of the bracelets around her bicep with a swipe of her thumb. The runes carved in the metal glowed, strengthening her mental fortitudes against the excess “noise” and unrestrained energy that thickened the air. Kotal Kahn sat in his throne to her left, silent as the prisoner was brought to his knees by the six guards holding the neck-restraint.

“They look like they’re struggling,” she mused, frowning. “Should I do something about that?”

He raised a hand in answer, a silent bid for her to wait. Nodding once, she clasped her hands behind her back and kept her expression neutral as she watched the proceedings. One thing she liked about Kotal Kahn; he didn’t draw things out. He exchanged a few words with the Collector, but someone was already approaching with his blade to wrap things up.

It was at that moment that she sensed something… off. Something otherworldly. She stiffened, eyes flickering around the Koliseum in search of the source. The sudden input nearly overwhelmed her, but she clutched at the skills Ermac had taught her years earlier and began parsing out the new energy she felt. It was inside the arena but also… not?

Her skin prickled and pressure built inside her mind. Gathering energy, a magic she was unaccustomed to. It felt like standing in a thunderstorm, the electric crescendo before a lightning strike. Something was about to happen.

“Emperor!” she called and communicated the rest of the warning with her mind.

He paused with the blade poised to strike, his response a quick instruction back to her. _Get inside._

She hesitated a moment. If this was magic, then she was the best suited to handling it.

Then the entire Koliseum shuddered. She clutched at the sturdy stone back of the throne, ducking her head against the sudden sandstorm that swirled around them. The magic that came with it felt like a tidal wave, strong and unusual. It felt old and… not-old? Whatever it was, she’d need more than her bracelets if she was going to stand any chance against it.

She summoned Ghost, who bowed his shoulder so she could climb onto his back. There was too much happening. Her psychic abilities were haywire, the inputs confusing and scrambled with other people’s confusion and fear. She guided Ghost through the huge doors that lead deep under the Koliseum, fighting off the migraine that threatened to overtake her the whole way.

It felt like a thousand voices were trying to talk over an ocean of static in her head, so loud it drowned out her ability to think or navigate. She squeezed her eyes shut, palms pressing to her temples as she struggled to insolate herself. It would have been easier to push against a waterfall. She was vaguely aware that Ghost was still moving, running in an attempt to get her to safety, but it barely registered with everything else.

Finally, blessedly, they travelled deep enough that she couldn’t hear the Koliseum’s audience anymore and Ghost slowed to a stop. For several moments, she leaned against his muscled neck, forehead pressed to his fur as she panted and reorganized her scattered thoughts. The pain receded and Nix sat up to gain her bearings.

They’d reached one of the armories. Sighing, she climbed from Ghost’s back and scratched beneath his chin. Though Nix didn’t frequent the arena, Erron had made sure she knew the layout by memory. A few of the pens and holding cells were nearby, but the underground passage back to the main section of the palace was a floor lower.

“Good boy,” she murmured as Ghost purred and nudged her cheek, careful with his tusks. “Let’s get back to our rooms. I think we’re going to need to get Erron for what’s coming.”

“What was that, little lady?”

She perked up at his voice, spun to find him standing in a doorway to her left. He was dressed in strange clothes, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d destroyed his clothes on a mission.

“You’re back!” she gasped, relief flooding her.

When she started to rush towards him, he drew his gun, eyes cold and flat. She froze, too shocked to do much more than that. Ghost growled, moved to stand in front of her, but she called him back. Something was wrong and she didn’t want to put him in any danger.

“Erron…?” she asked, as her fuzzy brain finally got with the program.

It wasn’t just his clothes that were unusual. His stance, his face above the mask. They were different. Younger. Sure, he didn’t look very old with Shang Tsung’s magic slowing his aging process, but there was still more youthfulness to this doppelganger. Even more telling, though, was that she could _sense_ him.

There was a coldness to his mind, a callous practicality that startled her. She wasn’t accustomed to reading his thoughts, but most of them currently revolved around money and his current job.

“I take it we’re acquainted in this here future?” he asked.

She blinked. Future…?

Oh. _Oh._ Fuck.

“Uh, something like that,” she managed, eyes still bouncing back and forth between his gun and face.

He arched an eyebrow, a tinge of intrigue in his thoughts. “Acquainted enough that you use my given name. Guess that acquaintanceship is at an end.”

She swallowed as he thumbed back the hammer, summoning up her magic in preparation to stop him. Even as she did, doubt clouded her racing mind. Though he clearly wasn’t immune to her empathic abilities, would the magic that brought him to the future make him immune to her own?

Thankfully, a nearby shout distracted them both, a thud from a different room.

“Kotal Kahn,” she said.

“Well now, isn’t that lucky for you,” he drawled as he put the gun away. “I got bigger fish to fry.”

As he turned to go, something occurred to her. “Hey.”

He paused, turning his head a little to listen. Curiosity and arrogance, she realized. Well, it worked in her favor. “I don’t know how this magic works, but remember this for your older self, okay? And just know I forgive you in advance.”

***

Erron didn’t believe he had any sort of sixth sense intuitive nonsense. That was Nix’s thing, not his. Having a good gut instinct was different from thinking he had any precognitive abilities.

Still, leaving Nix had felt like a bad idea. They’d been separated before, of course. They may have been living together and he was her bodyguard, but they weren’t attached at the hip. It wasn’t the first assignment he’d gone on without her, and it probably wasn’t going to be the last, but he was unusually paranoid.

Things had gone as expected, though. The hideout wasn’t quite like shooting fish in a barrel, but nothing he couldn’t handle with some one-liners and his six-guns. He’d been two days away from the palace when things went wrong.

Suddenly he was remembering events that hadn’t happened— or at least hadn’t happened in the timeline he’d already lived. Apparently, a younger version of himself was living a different “past,” and he was remembering it as it was happening. It made him a little cross-eyed. His thoughts in those memories were from the viewpoint of a stranger, but as he was “reliving” them in the present, he recognized everything and everyone.

The younger Erron delved into the lower levels of the Koliseum, following Kotal Kahn after Skarlet had dragged him away with her blood magic. She was a powerful sorceress, but no one became Kahn by accident, and Kotal was known for being one hell of a fighter. She’d probably need the back up.

As he was searching for the emperor, the younger Erron heard a quiet voice in one of the rooms. He crept up to the doorway and peered inside, where Nix was leaning against Ghost. To his past self, she was a pretty if unusual-looking woman, with pale hair and clothes unfitting to someone in service to the emperor. Erron of the past assumed she was some sort of concubine to Kotal Kahn.

“I think we’re going to need to get Erron for what’s coming,” she murmured.

Current-Erron was already shouting orders, rousing the small team of soldiers he’d brought with him for the raid. He mounted Fang, prepared to run ahead and leave the others to catch up while he kept an eye on what was happening with his younger self. Nix needed him back _yesterday_.

His heart almost stopped when the young-Erron pulled a gun on her and she froze, emotions playing across her face. Back then, he hadn’t known how to read her, but his older self could almost read her mind. Shock, confusion, hurt, realization, fear. His mind blanked when the hammer drew back, finger on the trigger.

If she died by his own hand…

He nearly collapsed with relief when the younger Erron turned to go, wanting his own shot at Kotal Kahn.

“Hey,” Nix called. Older-Erron recognized that tone of voice, a haughty mix of private amusement and indignation. “I don’t know how this magic works, but remember this for your older self, okay? And just know I forgive you in advance.”

Future-Erron chuckled, but it was tinged with hysteria. It was ridiculously clever of her, to realize she could send him a message through his own memories. He just wished she had done it when a gun hadn’t just been pointed at her. Thankfully, young-Erron was too stupid to realize just what that implied about the relationship between this woman and his older counterpart.

“Well, ain’t that a relief,” he drawled, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I couldn’ta lived with myself if you held it against me.”

She snorted softly and that was the last he saw of her before the fight with Kotal Kahn that laid him out cold. Kano came and found him, and the memories after that became a blur for a little while. Lots of fighting. Lots of blood. A few tasteless one-liners. Then the battle at the Koliseum was over, and he was facing the new boss.

A goddess named Kronika. Nix would want to hear about it when they were reunited. Maybe she’d even have theories about how to stop her.

***

Nix thought that her interaction with the past-Erron was over when he dismissed her in the armory.

Once he left, she travelled to her rooms to recover the powerful amulet Ermac had left behind before he’d disappeared. It held a crazy amount of magical energy, enough to tear an inexperienced magic-user apart. She’d only used it once, and it had been… well, it had been something. Still, she had a feeling she’d need it for whatever was coming.

With that safely tucked away in a hidden pocket of her skirts, Nix returned to the Koliseum. Kotal Kahn was there. A little injured, but he was more or less victorious. By his side was a woman whose future self was a Revenant that Nix had never crossed, Jade. The two were speaking quietly, intimately with one another. She hesitated to interrupt, but they’d both already noticed her.

“Phoenix, it is good to see you alive. I was not sure you made it out in time,” Kotal greeted her.

She glanced around. The Koliseum’s arena was a warzone, bodies and blood everywhere. Trying not to wince, she turned her eyes back to Kotal.

“I did, mostly,” she agreed, smiling. “Glad to see you in one piece, too.”

Nix could feel Jade’s curious gaze on her, but thankfully didn’t sense any jealousy. A smart, confident woman then. Nix suspected no one else could have captured Kotal Kahn’s heart. Cute.

“There are still hard battles ahead,” he said. “You are not a warrior, but we may have need of your magic.”

She nodded and set her hand on her hip. “You have it,” she promised. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but there’s someone who should.”

“Erron.” When she inclined her head, he considered. “His younger self is no ally to us.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, I found that out the hard way. But if this works the way I think it does, he should already know what’s happening and be headed back.”

Kotal Kahn nodded. “Then you should wait here for him. When the time comes, we will aid the Earthrealmers.”

Nix inhaled to calm her nerves. “Alright. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can for the wounded.”

While he went off to do emperor duties, she organized a group of palace physicians and able-bodied staff to transport the still-living somewhere that they could be cared for. The doctors got to work on smaller injuries while Nix focused her attentions on serious and internal ones.

Healing magic had become a necessity with Erron as her bodyguard. For the most part, he was good about keeping himself in one piece, but accidents happened. Nix had been determined to keep them from being fatal, and now she was glad for the extra studies.

She worked for a couple hours, working not just on individuals, but also casting a wide net of soothing energy. She kept everyone calm, kept the wounded from feeling pain while the healers treated their wounds.

Jade approached her towards the end of her second hour.

“May I have a word?” she asked.

Nix didn’t sense any ill-intentions, so she let herself be led out of earshot of everyone else.

“Kotal has a lot of trust in you,” Jade began, apropos nothing.

Nix nodded. “I’m his first minister. We work well together.”

Jade hummed, a thoughtful look on her beautiful face. “You won’t betray him. You are loyal.”

It was phrased almost like a question, but there was a natural hint of threat there as well. She was trying to gauge… something. Nix would play along, let the woman get her bearings.

“Yes,” Nix confirmed. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but he helped me more than I can repay when I came to Outworld. In the process, I’ve come to believe in him as a leader. He’s not without faults, but he cares about Outworld and its people.”

Jade inclined her head, apparently believing her, but her expression remained unreadable. There was an awkward moment of silence as Nix waited for whatever was coming next. She could sense Jade considering whatever she was about to say, forming her words carefully.

“You seem to be close with him,” she said, finally.

Ah, okay. Nix understood. Jade had just been yanked out of her time, found out decades had passed since she’d last seen the man she loved. Meanwhile, Nix was standing there, pledging her loyalty and service to him. Made sense. Nix would have wanted to figure out where everyone stood if she’d been in the same situation.

“I’d like to say we’re friends,” she admitted, shrugging. “I mean, Erron and I owe him one for sort of… getting us together.”

Jade blinked, surprise flitting across her features. “You… and the cowboy…”

“Yeah, we’re sort of a matched pair. A weird matched pair, granted,” Nix continued, running a hand through her hair. “Part of the reason I’m staying here until he gets back. I’m sure he’s had a heart attack and a half.”

A smile finally broke out across Jade’s face, a mix of both relief and amusement. “Then I hope your reunion is joyous.”

Nix laughed. “As joyous as yours with the Kahn, I’m sure.”

Jade blinked, a hint of color in her cheeks. “I am not—”

“Oh, I’m an empath. I knew the minute I saw you two standing together,” Nix said, shaking her head. “I think it’s sweet. He’s already smiling more.”

The flush deepened a tad more as Jade inclined her head. “Thank you,” she said, “for indulging me, and for being someone he can trust.”

Nix smiled back, wide and genuine. Jade was pretty fucking cool, in her estimation.

“No problem,” she replied. “When this is all over, I hope we can get drinks sometime and trade stories.”

Jade hesitated, and then nodded slowly. “Yes, I would like that.”

She left soon after that, and Nix went back to helping the impromptu ICU.

“We will soon need meals for those conscious and able to eat,” one of the healers told her about an hour later.

“I’ll take care of it,” she assured him, wanting to check on Keziah and the others in the kitchens. Everyone in extreme pain had already been given medications, so her absence wouldn’t put them in agony.

She left Ghost to guard the wounded while she trekked back to the palace, ignoring the twinge in the back of her mind. Fatigue was going to set in soon. It had been a stressful day, and she’d been using her abilities for three hours straight. Even with the aid of her bands, her mind had already been under immense strain and she hadn’t had a break since the failed execution.

“Lady Nix!”

She turned, gasped and hugged Izana as the maid rushed up to her. “I’m so glad you’re alright!”

“I should say the same to you! Where have you been?” Izana asked.

“With the injured at the Koliseum,” Nix explained. “Actually, I could use your help with that.”

They started down the hall again, exchanging words and stories about what had happened. Most of the palace staff was unscathed, but reports were still incoming from the rest of the capital. When she was finished with getting food in order, Nix planned to make a trip out herself to check on the city.

They’d almost reached the kitchen when Nix sense that they weren’t alone anymore. Two people teleported right behind them and she didn’t wait to see who. She threw up a barrier and grabbed Izana’s arm, racing away from their previous destination.

What the hell was she going to do?

Erron had taught her self-defense, but she wasn’t a warrior. She couldn’t fight the way he or the others could. Her stamina was already running thin, and she didn’t know if there was anyone else in the palace who could protect her and Izana. Kotal Kahn and Jade had ridden off on a mission right after the girl-talk earlier. The Earthrealmers were dealing with stuff in their own world. Erron was gone.

She was on her own this time.

A familiar figure stepped around the corner at the end of the corridor. Nix skidded to a stop, grabbing Izana and yanking her back before she could get too far.

The handmaid stared at her in confusion. “But that’s—”

“Not my Erron,” Nix explained quickly.

She sensed the second presence join them and glanced over her shoulder. A woman wearing a lot of red. The lower half of her face was also covered by a mask. Nix remembered Erron mentioning someone he’d “fooled around” with back when he’d been in Black Dragon and Shao Kahn had been in power.

It wasn’t hard to remember her name, seeing the woman in the flesh. Skarlet, a blood magic user.

“ _Your_ Erron?” she asked, sounding amused. “Are you really that naïve?”

Nix blinked. “Would you believe me if I said those two things are unrelated?”

“Anyone who thinks Erron Black ‘belongs’ to them is either naïve or stupid,” Skarlet replied.

Nix opened her mouth to respond, but a click to her left distracted her. She turned to find Erron aiming his gun at her again, hand steady and finger on the trigger. It was no less jarring the second time, but at least she managed to hide it.

“I hate to interrupt the girl-talk,” he drawled, “but can we move this along?”

Nix frowned, tugging Izana behind her. She saw his eyes track the movement, knew that he’d recognized the vulnerability. Skimming his thoughts, she knew he would use it against her at the first opportunity.

“What do you two want?” she asked.

“Just taking you out of the game for a little while, until Kronika decides what to do with you,” he replied.

Who the hell was that? More importantly, why was she even on anyone’s radar? It wasn’t like young-Erron had seen her do anything with her powers to report back to someone. Why did this Kronika think she was enough of a threat that they had to— what were they doing exactly? Kidnapping her, it seemed like.

She blinked. “What? Why?”

“Your blood is not of this world, or of any world I have encountered,” Skarlet said. “A true delicacy.”

Nix couldn’t help cringing away a little, face screwing up in disgust. “What the hell? Gross!”

Blood had never really bothered her, but Skarlet made it sound like Nix had the realm’s best smoothie flowing through her veins. It was enough to make her queasy.

“What she means,” young-Erron interrupted, “is that you and your magic can’t be allowed to run free-range.”

Nix tensed as Skarlet drew a long dagger, eyes alight with malicious intent. “You will come with us, unless you wish to test the strength of your magic against mine?”

If she’d been well-rested, Nix could have done it. Skarlet’s magic was all physical and Erron wasn’t protected from her psychic abilities. Controlling two people at once, even if they fought her influence, wasn’t hard for her usually but success wasn’t as guaranteed in her current state. On her own, she might have tried it anyway. However, she had Izana to think of. Nix wasn’t sure she could manage it in time to keep one of them from hurting her.

“If I come along quietly, you won’t do anything to Izana?” she asked.

“You have my word,” Erron said.

She shot him a doubtful look. “Normally, that would mean something, but…” she didn’t have many other choices. “Fine.”

Nix gently pried Izana’s death-grip off her arm and put both hands in the air, surrendering. When she glanced at Erron expectantly, he made a show of stepping aside. With a small smile and an extra push of calm Nix didn’t feel, she nodded for Izana to escape while she could. The handmaid hurried away with an apologetic glance over her shoulder.

Left to the wolves, Nix shifted so she could keep both of them in her line of sight.

“So, what now?” she asked. “This is my first kidnapping.”

Skarlet took a threatening step towards her. “You can come with me. I’m sure we have much to discuss…”

Erron stepped between them, gun still in hand even if it was by his side. “Your orders are to stay here, remember? She’s coming with me back to the Black Dragon.”

Well, it was better than going with the Slurpee Queen, anyway. As Skarlet relented, Erron turned to Nix, eyes sweeping over her. She dipped into his thoughts and found a somewhat concerning mix of wariness, curiosity, and interest swirling there. He sidled over to her, finally holstering his gun, and grabbed her arm. At least he was wearing gloves; she didn’t want a deeper look at whatever was going on in his head.

“Get us back to Earthrealm,” he told Skarlet.

A pool of what was undoubtedly blood opened up, sloshing in the floor in front of them. Nix jerked back a little, hating everything about this turn of events. Baby-Erron gave her a warning look— _that_ expression hadn’t changed much over time, apparently— but she just arched her eyebrows at him.

“Oh my god, your older self _owes_ me for this,” she complained.

He rolled his eyes and yanked her over to the portal. Nix shut her eyes and held her breath as they fell through it, popping up like daisies on the other side. To her immense relief, none of it had gotten into her clothes or hair, and it closed up beneath them without a trace.

“So, this is the pretty little wrench in our plans.”

Nix followed the Australian accent right to Kano. She’d never met him before, but Erron had no pleasant stories about him. He’d actually made a point of telling her to stay away from him, that she didn’t want to hear anything that went on his mind. Frowning, she tilted her head to look up at baby-Erron.

“I’m going to sit down now,” she informed him.

There was a stack of crates nearby that was calling her name.

***

Erron strode in angry.

Whatever his future-self had been up to, it was becoming a serious pain in his ass for current-him. He had never been a law and order kind of guy. Didn’t care about right and wrong so long as he got paid enough at the end of the day. Not his problem that the “bad guys” always paid the most. Yet, everyone on the enemy’s side was calling him “ally” and “friend.”

And it kept coming back to that woman. He couldn’t remember her name, hadn’t bothered to learn it. She was easy enough to pick out in a crowd. Purple hair, big eyes, pretty face, scar on her nose. No need to know her name.

But then the older Johnny Cage had had to make that comment. “You’re one of the good guys, kinda. Thought that gal of yours set you straight.”

He’d been ignoring her up until then. Like he’d told Kotal, he focused on the now. Whatever future-Erron’s life was, it had nothing to do with him. They might as well have been two different people as far as current-Erron was concerned. Perfect strangers. Apparently, no one else had the same philosophy, and it was starting to drive him up the goddamn wall.

She was still sitting on the crates in the Black Dragon hideout when he returned. Right where he left her, unrestrained and practically unsupervised. Somehow, that was infuriating. She was just messing with her hair, working a complicated braid into the strands while she observed the people streaming past.

He stormed over to her, his fingers itching for a trigger when her eyes flicked over him with what seemed like genuine (if banked) concern. Once he was close enough, he couldn’t hold his temper.

“Mind explaining what the hell is going on,” he growled.

“Not at all,” she replied, shrugging. Perfectly agreeable. She didn’t even stop messing with her hair. He didn’t fucking trust it. “Just ask.”

Erron grit his teeth; she arched her eyebrows, waiting. Irritated, he kicked a spare box over and dropped onto it, facing her. Her expression didn’t change as he did it, pure and open curiosity as she blinked at him.

“What are you to me?” he demanded.

She arched an eyebrow. “Your prisoner.”

He scowled. “Don’t fuck with me,” he snapped. “What are you to the future-me?”

She hummed in understanding. “You and I are together,” she answered simply.

“Together,” he repeated, trying to wrap his head around it. Erron didn’t do commitment, or relationships. He had some fun, got bored, and moved on. It worked for him, because the types of women he liked weren’t exactly the kind to take home to ma— if he’d still had one, anyway.

“Well, it’s not like we’ve ever talked about it or anything,” she explained, “but we share a living space, and we’ve been ‘exclusive’ for a few years now. We have two pets.”

He narrowed his eyes. His initial reaction was that she was bullshitting, but he had a nose like a bloodhound for lies, and she wasn’t setting off any alarms. So, what the hell had happened to him in the future? Was that really the bare-faced truth, or did she maybe misunderstand the nature of their relationship.

“Isn’t that domestic,” he drawled mockingly, crossing his arms.

“Something like that… if you don’t count the assassination attempts, executions, magic, et cetera,” she mused.

Magic. Right.

“So what, you cast a spell on me in the future?” he guessed. That had to be it.

She grinned at that, too wide and bright to be anything but honest. “You’re immune to psychic magics by the time we meet. It’s why you and I work in this time. You don’t overload my powers, and I can’t invade your privacy— accidentally or otherwise.”

“You expect me to believe we ‘fell in love’ like some kind of fairytale?” he scoffed.

The smile was still there, though more subdued. “It doesn’t make much difference if you believe me or not, because you’re not the version of you I’m with. I’m just answering questions.”

Dissatisfied, he stood and stormed off. He needed to shoot something.

***

Erron came back about an hour later, only slightly less irate. Blade and Cage would be waking up soon and they’d all be heading down to the “arena” to watch the entertainment. No way in hell was he leaving the psychic by herself in the meantime. God only knew what she’d get up to.

When he got to her, though, the older Kano was already there, leaning over her as she pressed her back against the wall. She looked equal measures uncomfortable and pissed off, half her hair covering her face as she leaned away from him.

“What’s the matter, love?” he was saying. “You were real chatty with Black earlier.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe because he gave me personal space.”

“Aw, c’mon, I’m just trying to be friendly,” he chuckled.

Her eyes flashed, literally glowed as she narrowed them. “More than friendly, from your thoughts.”

Erron was moving before he’d really thought about it, shoving Kano’s shoulder back. He caught a glimpse of her surprised expression before he focused on Kano.

“We’re on a schedule, stay focused,” Erron snapped.

Kano put his hands up, an easy grin on his face. “If you wanted her to yourself, all you had to do was say so, mate.”

“I don’t care about her,” he scoffed. “I care about getting paid.”

“Alright, alright. Then you’re in charge of wrangling her.” Kano sauntered off, leaving Erron and Nix alone again.

She was supporting herself against the wall, pressing her hand to her temple. “Why couldn’t it be after Black Dragon,” she muttered to herself. “Or even before. Fuck.”

“Having some trouble there, sweetheart?” Erron drawled.

She groaned and shot him a dirty look. “Ugh, don’t say it like that. Your older self is way more charming— even when he’s being an asshole.”

She stalked off without a backwards glance, leaving Erron in shocked silence. Balls of steel on that woman.

***

Erron entered with the rest of SF, taking out his former comrades without remorse. It had been a long time since he’d been in Black Dragon, after all, and he’d never been fond of any of them. It had always been just business. In the confusion and chaos, he caught sight of his younger-self heading for the cage. He began pushing through the crowd, got there in time to clock himself before he could shoot Johnny Cage.

“Get him and get out,” he barked to the younger Sonya Blade. “I got business here.”

She nodded once and slipped by while the two Errons faced off, sizing each other up.

“Don’t you know how to treat a lady?” he called. Watching a younger of himself interact with Nix had been infuriating.

“What, you want me to buy you dinner before I kick your ass?” young-Erron shot back.

Oh, he _definitely_ owed Nix for putting up with that all day.

“How about a slice of humble pie?” he countered.

Killing his younger counterpart was out of the question, but that didn’t stop him from kicking his own ass. It was almost child’s play, with the decades of extra experience he had under his belt. The base was silent and almost completely empty by the time their fight ended. His lesser-half was laid out on the dirty ground and future-Erron straightened out of his defensive stance with a satisfied smirk.

There was an excited squeal from behind him. “Erron!”

He turned and caught Nix around the waist right as she crashed into him, her arms around his shoulders as she buried her face against his neck. She was already shaking and crying into his shirt, but that was fine. He was used to it, even expected it at this point. All he had to do was hold her while she got it out of her system, and she’d settle down in a few minutes.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he said. “I’ve been a real asshole to you in the past.”

Her laughter was watery as he set her on her feet again and separated just enough to see her face. He cupped her cheek, wiped the tears away with his thumb as he gave her a once over. Unharmed, as he expected. His younger self wasn’t a complete idiot, after all. He’d figured that if Nix’s claims were even a little true, his older self would raise hell if there was so much as a scratch on her.

“I-I’ve been so worried,” Nix sniffled, “and I’m so tired.”

She was barely making any sense, but he figured she was running on fumes. No food, no rest, and constant input. Her mental walls were likely wrecked. He’d seen her get like this a handful of times on difficult assignments for Kotal Kahn. The fact that she was even still upright was impressive.

“I know, sunshine. I’ll take care of you now,” he promised.

She nodded and rubbed at her eyes as he turned to his younger-self, who was still on the ground, half-dazed and half-dumbfounded by what he was witnessing.

“You’re all beans and no broth, amigo,” he sighed, “but we need you alive, so you’re comin’ with us.”

They caught a ride with Cassandra Cage and her team, who agreed to drop them off at a portal to Outworld since Nix was too tired to make one. They disarmed the young-Erron and cuffed him, sat him in the back of the transport while the better-Erron and Nix took seats across the narrow aisle. They found her some protein bars and a bottle of water, all of which she downed with heavy eyelids.

With fuel in her belly, she finally curled up against Erron’s chest and fell asleep. For a short while, there was only the sound of the engines in the back of the aircraft while the two Errons recovered and Nix rested.

“What the hell happened to you?” young-Erron finally asked.

He snorted. “Not a damn thing.”

“So, we just decided to cozy up with her one day? Wanted the quiet life all of sudden?” other-Erron scoffed.

Future-Erron rolled his eyes. Was he always that stupid? “What part of today looked quiet to you? Nix is always getting into trouble like this.”

He hadn’t had a day to be bored since that morning he’d decided to be her bodyguard full-time.

“The sex can’t be that good.”

He scowled and pointed warningly. “Firstly, watch your mouth. Secondly, it would be even if I didn’t like anything else about her. Thirdly, that’s not the point.”

He could tell his younger self just wasn’t fucking getting it. The idiot was too caught up in money and pretending he didn’t have a chip on his shoulder.

“What is, then?” past-Erron demanded.

“You’re dumber’n a bucket of nails,” he groaned, shaking his head. “Nix is the first and only person we can trust. If she told me to a point a gun at Kotal Kahn himself, I’d only ask where to aim.”

Young-Erron squinted. “So, you went with the safe option? Where’s the thrill in that?”

Future-Erron grinned behind his mask. “If you think a woman who can kill you with a thought ain’t thrilling, then you’re not as badass as you think, partner. The only thing that’s kept you alive is that she likes _me_ enough to put up with _you_.”

That seemed to make some sense to his doppleganger at least. Of course it would. He’d only had two things on his mind at that age. Number one was always business, by a large margin. Number two was sex with women likely to slide a blade between his ribs.

“What the hell does she want with us then?” younger-Erron asked.

If he only fucking knew.

“Ask her yourself.” He shrugged, careful not to jostle Nix’s head. “All I can tell you is that she was friends with me first, and then the rest came later.”

Past-Erron shook his head a little. “I’m not looking for friends.”

“Neither was I,” current-Erron chuckled. “She didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“And now?”

“We’ve always done the killin’ for other people,” he answered easily, “not much of a stretch to do it for someone we care about.”

***

They returned to utter disaster.

Kotal Kahn was badly injured and had abdicated the throne to Outworld. Shao Kahn was dead. Kitana was the newly-appointed emperor. Kronika was still planning things.

Nix did not feel prepared to deal with any of it, but she doubted she ever could.

She made a beeline for Kotal Kahn first— or just Kotal now, she figured. Though he wasn’t bleeding (much) she could sense that something was very wrong.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, kneeling down next to Jade. “What the fuck happened?!”

Jade was putting on a brave face, but Nix could sense her inner turmoil. “He and Shao Kahn fought… his spine…”

Nix swallowed thickly, feeling her eyes sting. Though she wasn’t friends with Kotal in the traditional sense, they had an understanding. She’d worked by his side for years, and he’d had surprising moments of humanity in the time she’d known him. He was an honorable man of principle, strict but not without necessity.

_Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry._

Erron (her Erron) walked up to them, oddly silent. She knew it was him because he was a quiet spot among the chaos and misery of everyone else around them. His hand settled on her shoulder and squeezed gently. Like she had a thousand times over, she used him as a focus point to gather and steel herself.

Taking a deep breath, she set her jaw with determination and looked at Jade.

“I might be able to heal him,” she said. “At least in part.”

Jade blinked, fragile hope filling her dark eyes. “You can?”

Nix turned to Kotal, searching his face. “I don’t know how much I can do since it’s been some hours since you sustained the injury, but I can do _something_.”

He considered her for a long moment before finally nodding his consent. They wasted no time. She instructed Erron and Jade to lay him out flat on the ground, a pillow beneath his head. Folding her legs in front of her at his side, Nix activated each of the bands around her biceps and thighs, inhaling deeply at the flood of magic that crackled through her body.

Jade settled on Kotal’s other side, her hand grasping his. “Will it hurt him?” she asked.

“It might,” Nix admitted, “but I won’t do any more damage.”

She suspended her hands over Kotal’s body, palms down. A purple glow enveloped them both as she scanned him over, taking a diagnostic of the damage to his nerves and bones. It wasn’t pretty, but she had hope.

“Nix, do you have the energy to do this?” Erron asked. “Even with the boost?”

“I’ll have to,” she replied, her mind already made. “In the meantime, can you gather info about Kronika from baby-Erron?”

“You’ve got it, angel,” he promised, running a hand over her hair. “I’ll be here when you get done.”

She shot him a quick smile before turning back to Kotal. “Remember to breathe and stay still.”

It took her about an hour to mend his spine. Rearranging bone shards and repairing damaged nerve fibers, an empathic twinge in her own back with each piece she cemented into place with her magic. Preventing him from feeling the pain of it was beyond her capabilities while doing such fragile work, but he remained stoic until she was done.

With a sharp exhale, the glow of her magic faded, and Nix slumped back in pure exhaustion. Erron, sitting right behind her, caught her against his chest as her head spun. She blinked spots from her vision while Kotal slowly sat up and Jade stared with wide eyes.

“What— _how—?_ ” she asked.

Nix rubbed at her eyes, smiling despite her fatigue. “You can’t fight anymore, or do anything else to strain it, but you should be able to walk again, at least.”

Jade helped him stand, the movements slow and careful as he tested his regained motion. In the meantime, Erron scooped Nix up and held her against his chest, giving her a quick onceover that made her chest warm and fuzzy.

Kotal inclined his head to her, genuine warmth in his features. “Thank you. I can never repay you for this.”

“Consider us even, if you want. I’m just glad I could help,” Nix replied, tucking her hands against her stomach.

Jade and Kotal retreated, and Nix turned to Erron. “What did you learn from baby-Erron?”

He shook his head and began sauntering off, heading for the underground paths that would take them back to the palace. “Later, darlin’. You need more rest. It’ll be awhile before the big fight anyway.”

She wanted to argue, but she was just too tired, and he was warm and comforting. A familiar, steady strength that always supported her. She fell into a light doze for the walk back, and only roused when they reached their quarters. Ghost and Fang were waiting for them there and crowded around as Erron set her on her feet.

She hummed and greeted them with gentle words, stroking flanks and scratching ears while Erron lit the room against the setting sun. Nix shed her dusty and dirty and somewhat bloody clothes, pulled on one of Erron’s shirts instead. She waited for him on the bed while he stripped to his underwear, leaving his mask and hat on the desk by her spell books.

They’d been together long enough that she recognized the slight furrow to his brow, the tension around the corners of his eyes. It was a rare for him to be so worried, but she imagined it was well-deserved after the day they’d had. There was something else, though…

She watched his face as he laid back and turned to her, his dark eyes tracing over her features so slowly and carefully. The tenderness in his gaze wasn’t as rare to see, but there was something more solemn behind it.

It clicked then. He wasn’t just worried.

“Erron?”

His gaze bounced back to hers. “Yeah, angel?”

Nix crawled closer and swung her leg over his abdomen so that she straddled him, her face directly above his. Erron’s hands settled on her hips automatically, but there was no heat behind either action. Her hair fell around them, brushing his cheek and shutting out the rest of the word behind a pale lilac curtain.

She cupped his face with one hand, her thumb stroking gently over his cheekbone in a mirror of their reunion earlier. Her other hand rested over his chest, where a jagged scar marked a near-fatal wound he’d taken while protecting her. There was a beat of silence as she felt his heart beat against her palm, so strong and steady.

There were a lot of things she could say about his heart; about the time and patience it had taken for him to trust her with it. She could say that they beat in synch, or that they’d exchanged hearts somewhere along the way. That their names were carved in each other’s ribs. That wasn’t it though, not really. That wasn’t who they were. They’d never lost themselves to the other.

She didn’t want to possess his heart, because it was the fact that it was _his_ that made her fall in love.

And she’d do anything to make sure it kept stubbornly beating.

“You and I are going to win this,” she said. “We’ve been through worse on our own and survived. Not a damn thing can stop us when we’re together.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into her palm. His mouth brushed her wrist, and his exhale wasn’t quite steady as it brushed her skin. When he opened his eyes again, there was that familiar blaze within them. The corner of his mouth curled up.

“Damn right, sunshine,” he said. “Last I checked, gods ain’t bulletproof.”

She grinned and laughed a little. “They’re not,” she agreed.

One of his hands slid up to her jaw and guided her down into a warm, sweet kiss. Nix sighed and relaxed against him, knowing that past or future, they’d fight the world together if they had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Baby-Erron" was relegated to a prison cell after Future-Erron got the info he wanted.
> 
> Obviously, they won in the end and stopped Kronika with Nix's help. My thought is that she didn't figure into any plans because she's from another dimension, so she doesn't appear in Kronika's timeline. It throws a huge wrench in Kronika's plans, and since Nix is a powerful magician, they essentially kick ass and set things to rights. Happy ending for everyone.
> 
> The actual end this time.


End file.
